


Singing Your Praises, Stealing Your Phrases

by jet6black6feeling6



Category: Frank Iero and the Future Violents (Band), Frank Iero and the Patience, Gerard Way and the Hormones, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abuse, Artist Gerard Way, Bottom Gerard Way, Dom Frank Iero, Drug Addiction, Drug Lord Frank Iero, Drug Use, I promise there will be some serious smut soon, Just get through the plot buildup, M/M, Robber Frank Iero, Sub Gerard Way, Top Frank Iero, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-01-15 08:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18495019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jet6black6feeling6/pseuds/jet6black6feeling6
Summary: When Frank breaks into Gerard's apartment, he doesn't just take his money. He takes personal possessions to blackmail Gerard with. Gerard has to find Frank to keep his secret hidden. But when they get too involved in each others' personal lives, things get complicated.Dom Robber/Drug Lord Frank & Sub Artist G. This is a bit of a slow burn, but I promise I will make it worth your time





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bicycle. Then I realized that the Lord doesn't work that way so I stole one and asked Him to forgive me."

“Fuck, that was corny,” Gerard sighed, before leaning down to pick up his empty drink from the theater floor.

“It really was.”

Gerard and his brother heaved themselves up out of the bucket seats. The room brightened as the door opened, from the light of the lobby.

“I mean, some of it was plausible I guess, but the acting was just…I couldn’t,” Mikey laughed, throwing the remainder of his popcorn in the trash as they walked out.

Gerard smiled to himself. It felt like when they were kids watching scary movies at eye-endangering closeness to the living room TV. He and his brother had been caught up in work, but they always seemed to carve out some time in their schedules to hang.

The two started out the door and back to their respective apartments on foot, both close to the theater. Mikey didn’t live terribly far from Gerard’s place, luckily.

“You got work tomorrow?”

“Mhmm.”

Gerard had recently gotten a job at Cartoon Network, which was finally some great payoff after a long time living at home after graduating. About 25 hours a week as a storyboard junior artist, so it wasn’t much, but it was a good start. He finally got a change to tell his brother in person at dinner.

“Ah, it’s still so sick though. My big brother, a real career man!” Mikey wiped a fake tear off his cheek before shoving Gerard off the curb jokingly. Gerard laughed.

Mikey was working at Barnes & Noble, but he was still young. They were close, so it was hard to remember there was four years between them.

After few minutes of walking in the night chill, Mikey accompanied Gerard to his apartment door on the first floor.

“You gonna be ok walking to your place alone? I can drive you. It’s no problem,” Gerard unlocked his door.

“Yeah no sweat. It’s only like four blocks and I got my phone.” Mikey scratched his head, before leaning in for a quick hug.

Gerard felt his stomach lurch out of paranoia, but trusted that his brother would be fine if he said he would be. He squeezed him before letting go.

“Alright Mikes, thanks for hanging. See ya soon,” Gerard let him go and waved, “Text me when you’re home.” He watched him walk out to the sidewalk before shutting the door.

Gerard went inside and got ready for bed. It was only 11, so he had time hang out before he needed to sleep. 

He made his way over to the bedroom to change into his pajamas. His nightly rituals included washing off any traces of eyeliner and picking unnecessarily at his skin until he had a few red splotches on his incredibly pale complexion. 

He dragged the flannel blanket off the top of his bed into the living room to see what was on TV. His phone was on the arm rest of the couch next to him, and still bared no text from Mikey. 

It had only been about ten minutes, so it was no cause for concern. He propped his feet on the coffee table. His body was killing him from all the walking they had done together today, reminding him just how out of shape he had gotten.

He sighed, picking up the remote. Instead of turning the TV on, he gazed at his distorted reflection in the black screen.

He couldn’t believe how happy Mikey was for him earlier, and wondered why his own reaction couldn’t didn’t match his level of enthusiasm. He supposed this was a big transitional period in his life. He finally did something notable. But he still felt a big, empty presence in his life that was pressing on him like it was sitting on his chest.

Maybe from his anxiety. Maybe from just growing up too fixated on heroes and setting the bar too high for himself. He could never tell if he was being too critical on himself, or if he wasn’t being critical enough. That grey area was probably why he couldn’t accept celebrating.

He thought telling Mikey would feel better than it did. But there was still so much his brother didn't know about him.

He picked the last remains of some black nail polish off this thumb before putting it in his mouth, biting.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Gerard jumped, nearly swatting his phone onto the ground at the noise. His feet swung right back onto the floor, before rolling his eyes at himself, feeling like an idiot.

Fuckin’ Mikey dumbass what did he forget this time…

He hopped off the couch, dropping the blanket down beneath his feet and scuffling toward the door without a second thought. Mikey could be really tactless sometimes. Gerard could imagine seeing straight through the door to his lanky figure, shamefully asking for the keys he had left on the counter before they went to dinner.

Wouldn’t be the first time. Wouldn’t be the last either. When he reached the entryway, he leaned up, flipping the deadbolt loudly for Mikey to hear.

“Ok asshole, what did you leave?”

Gerard turned the lock on the door and reached for the handle. He let the door swing in, starting to turn back toward the living room as he pivoted on his heel without so much as looking.

Then it felt like he dropped off the edge of a fucking cliff. 

His veins filled with ice, prickling up and down his neck and down to the tips of his fingers. Everything he ate felt like it was about to come back up, and he’d barely caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye. He hadn’t seen for more than a millisecond, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around.

That was not Mikey.

The door clicked shut behind him as he reached this thought. 

Silence, before a few footsteps echoed on the wooden floor behind him. It was the loudest sound in the world.

“Don’t scream.”

A man’s voice spoke quietly, mere feet away from his turned back. It was throaty, scratchy and unfamiliar. He heard footsteps again.

Gerard felt his weight shift, like he was going to move forward, but couldn’t bring himself to.

“Don’t, or I’ll cut your throat open,” The man said slowly. His voice was sickeningly close.

Gerard nodded, still not turning around. He was frozen in place. 

Clammy, calloused fingers clamped around the nape of his neck. Something cold and heavy pressed into the small of his back.

“That’s it, now walk to the couch.”

He swallowed, nodding again.

The man behind him started walking him, the grip on his neck unforgiving. He sniffed loudly. Gerard couldn’t bring himself to make a sound. Gerard’s shins hit the soft surface when they reached the fixture, stopping them both. Then he felt himself being wrenched around, forced to sit.

The man let go when Gerard was seated.

“I’m gonna keep this simple. Where’s your money?” He spat, “What’s worth something in here?”

He was suddenly face to face with the intruder. Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

He was wearing a black ski mask, framing his frantic hazel eyes with pinprick pupils. Pieces of dark hair poked out from underneath. His mouth had a ring through his lower lip. He was adorned a plain black hoodie and torn up jeans, exposing his knees. Gerard stored as many details of the man as possible in case he could present the police with this information. If he got lucky enough to live.

A sizable switchblade was inches from his face keeping him seated. His hands, one holding a knife while the other held Gerard down, were littered with tattoos.

“You were being so good before, hm?” The man said, Jersey drawl unmistakable, “Tell me or I’ll cut it out of you.” 

“I don’t know how much cash I have, but my wallet is on my dresser in the bedroom,” Gerard tried to remain composed. 

He was thinking. Planning a way out. Gerard wasn’t stupid, or a pushover. He’d thought about this exact scenario before, from countless horror and crime movies. But somehow it had always played out with more time for preparation in his mind.

He had no idea why this man was here, but unlike his fantasies, cooperation seemed to be his only option.

“Kay. And what else? I didn’t come here for your pocket change.” He was sounding impatient, shifting from foot to foot like he was paranoid. Gerard decided to move things along as fast as possible.

“Got a computer. It’s on my desk in the same room.” Gerard knew it had a tracing app and was password protected. He had the serial number somewhere too so if it turned up online it could be located. Maybe if he rushed him along he would get him out of here with minimal damage.

The man’s eyes narrowed. He ran the tip of his own finger across the blade in his hand softly. And suddenly, his free hand was wrapped around Gerard’s throat.

“Listen,” The man spoke, hovering over Gerard, “I’m only gonna say this once.”

Gerard nodded. He couldn’t decide whether he should look him in the eyes or look away. His fingers were bruisingly pressing into his skin, distracting him.

“I’m gonna walk you to the bedroom. You’re gonna grab the wallet and the computer, and anything else I ask for. No funny business.”

He nodded again. His breath smelled bitter, like coffee and booze.

“Up.” He touched the sharp tip of the blade to Gerard’s collar, before letting off his throat so he could stand.

“Fight, scream… You’re dead.”

Gerard just turned toward his room slowly, walking like there wasn’t a man in a ski mask with a knife just one pace behind him. He entered the dark threshold, flipping the light on. He approached the dresser, grabbing his wallet.

The man grunted, prying it out of his hand from behind him, and then shoving him forward toward the desk. Gerard stumbled, but did his best to remain composed. He went to his desk and unplugged his laptop from the charger. 

He began to lift it off the desk, but the man tutted.

“Nuh uh, sit at the desk.”

Gerard couldn’t understand why, but he obeyed quickly. The metal chair creaked as his weight descended onto it. The man hovered over him, preventing him from going anywhere.

“Think I’m stupid? Type the password in. Unlock it.”

Fuck. 

Gerard typed in, GW1979, and his desktop flashed before him. Some random files, nothing much. He wondered if the man was going to make him reset it for him.

The intruder instead made him comb through documents, emails and search history. The man was likely looking for credit card info, birthday and social security, relative names… Anything that could get him into his accounts. He seemed to be taking note in his own cell phone any time they came across anything important.

“Open that icon.” The man pointed down to the last one in the carousal. Gerard cringed internally, knowing what was in that application. It was photos.

“Scroll.”

And Gerard did. Old pictures of him and Mikey, pics from his high school graduation, old boyfriends, scans of his art…

Gerard scrolled quicker, feeling his heart skip a beat. Two photos. Two tiny thumbnails that he skipped over. He didn’t see them. It’s fine. He kept going. Pictures of college, some of his parents…

“Go back.”

Jesus Christ.

Gerard scrolled back up, painfully slowly. One row of images at a time. And another.

“Yep, there.” The man said, voice unreadable.

And then forced Gerard to open the two images he was begging the lord he would not see from the moment they logged onto the computer. He clicked on the first image, and it populated onto the screen.

It was old. Gerard was probably about 21 at the time, still in school. He had taken this on his old Nikon propped up on a stack of books. He had sent these to Bert a million years ago, at the start of their brief relationship. And it still resided on his laptop to this day, five years later.

The first photo depicted Gerard, naked except for a thin black collar, bent over on the bed and looking back at the camera over his shoulder. The periwinkle bedsheets bunched near his knees looked grey from the washed out effect from the flash. His box-dyed black hair fell near his face, almost obscuring his identity. But unfortunately, it was unmistakably Gerard.

He whined slightly in embarrassment, looking at the image of himself with his ass spread open on full display for the viewer. 

“Next.” The man commanded.

Gerard felt his face heating up.

“Why are you doing this? Is this some kind of fucked up kink of yours?” Gerard spoke up with a sudden rush of courage, but then regretted it as fast as it had left his mouth.

“I said fucking next photo.” The man commanded, voice tinged with anger. He flicked the knife in his hand open and closed again.

Gerard clicked, feeling shame and hatred fill his head again.

It showed Gerard on the same, washed out looking periwinkle sheets of his dorm room. But this time he was kneeling, holding the camera above his head and aiming down to take the photo. His wide eyes, rimmed with a trace of black liner stared up at the camera. It showcased his naked body, crouched on his knees with his erect cock standing between his pale thighs. He was clearly sucking in his stomach, exposing his ribs under his alabaster complexion.

“Mm, what are we gonna do about that?” The man murmured. Gerard could see his face in the reflection of the computer, murky and distorted. His eyes shone brightly through the ski mask.

Gerard sighed softly, minimizing both images before anything else was said.

“This is really sick, ya know? I’ll give you my money, my laptop, just plea-“

“Shut the fuck up,” The man snapped. He wrenched Gerard out of the chair by his hair, causing him to yelp in pain.

He then leaned over the desk himself, reopening the minimized files of Gerard’s embarrassing photos.

“Listen up,” The man said, dragging the files to the desktop and opening a browser window, “I don’t wanna fuckin’ kill you ok? I don’t need that kind of shit on me.”

Gerard stood behind him, nervously watching his actions on the computer. But when he heard his words, all he could do was listen.

“What I’m doing here is protecting my real estate. And you’re gonna watch me do it so you know what’s up.”

Gerard blinked, head tilted around the body of the strange man hunched over his desk. He appraised his ability to fight him off while he was turned around. The man was shorter, but definitely stronger. And he wasn’t sure where the knife was. Not the best idea.

The man opened what appeared to be an email account, dropped the files, along with a few others, into it, and pressed send without any body or subject. He then went to the start icon, clicked around in the settings, and the computer appeared to be powering off.

When he seemed to be satisfied, the man whipped around and stepped forward so he was close enough to Gerard to be standing on his toes.

“What are you-“ Gerard began, but was quickly cut off.

“You see that? Those photos? Mine now,” He twisted his head back, popping his neck before continuing, “You rat, you call your brother, you run out of here, I send them to everyone in that contact book.

Gerard felt his heart rate elevate at the idea of it. Of anyone seeing those. He could lose his job. His brother didn’t know he wasn't straight. He wasn’t ready for that conversation.

“That computer is wiped now. I’m takin’ in. And I’d consider this a fair trade. You zip it, I won’t expose you for being a fuckin’ whore to everyone in your life.”

Gerard faltered, looking down at the man’s steel toed boots that were stepping on the tips of his toes. It probably should’ve hurt, but right now he couldn’t feel anything.

The man reached forward, grabbing Gerard’s chin in his rough, tattooed hand and wrenching his face up to meet his.

“Look at me,” He hissed, “Do you understand?”

He looked up finally, meeting the man’s hazel eyes, sighing.

“I do,” Gerard whispered.

“Good.”

And with that, the man swiftly exited his bedroom with his most valuable possessions. Nothing but a shouted, “Remember our deal,” as he slammed the door behind him.

He wondered if Mikey had gotten home ok.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as Chapter 1, but Frank's POV and some backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in there! I know we haven't gotten to the smut yet, but it will happen soon ;)
> 
> Let me know if you have any requests!

“I’m tellin’ you Frankie, this is the end of it if you can’t pull this together.”

Lorenzo’s cold, dark eyes looked up at Frank, who stood before the wooden desk. The yellow light from a pendant bulb that hung from the ceiling cast a sickly tone on the older man’s tan face.

Frank looked up at the ceiling, causing his head to spin nauseatingly. It had been roughly five hours since he’d had a hit of anything and it was fucking with his thought process. He sniffed, digging his inked fingers into his heavy puffer jacket pockets, looking for a smoke and turning up empty handed.

Frank didn’t think he would’ve ended up here at the beginning of the week, but the market was down. His own addiction, regrettably, was also getting to be worse than he thought. The stock he had six days ago was long gone, and he had nothing to show for it. His boss fucking knew it too.

“A grand. That’s all you owe me,” Lorenzo rasped, “That’s next to nothing.” He leaned his full, suited figure back in the chair causing it to squeak loudly.

“I’ve treated you like a son, “He said lowly, “And all you’ve been doing lately is disappointing me Frankieboy.”

And Frank took that as a dismissal, as Lorenzo cast his gaze down. He nodded in response, even though the man wasn’t looking, before turning away to head toward the door.

“Don’t make me do anything I don’t wanna do, boy,” Lorenzo called from behind him, before he had walked through the door.

His tone was mostly somber, but the glimmer of a threat contained in his words was real enough to make Frank want to finish the job now.

He made his way out onto the street.

* * *

 

  
Frank lived approximately 12 blocks away from the boss’s place. That gave him plenty of time to figure something out. Lucky for him, it was frigidly cold.

He pulled his hood up as he made his way out the back door and off the lawn. This was the most drastic of a situation he’d been in since his father died, and Lorenzo was the only person he had left to help him out.

He was used to living desperately, so whatever it took to get his ass out of hot water, he was willing to do. He’d just never gotten this desperate before.

He strode along, boots heavily stomping on the concrete as he kept his head down from the wind. He really knew how to fuck his own life up fast, didn’t he?

It was nearing 10 o’clock, pitch darkness engulfing in either direction down the road. Except for the faint light of a plaza to the right down the corner. He hesitated for a moment before letting his feet carry him off his route and toward the plaza.

It was a movie theater. Frank was dying to get inside for some warmth, so he might be able to step inside and look at the film posters before planning his course of action. Going home didn’t feel like the move just yet.

That was, until something else caught his eye.

Two men.

One tall and lanky, while the other was a slightly shorter and more filled out. They nearly brushed shoulders with him as he turned down the block, but Frank dodged into an alley quickly before they noticed him.

They laughed, walking artlessly down the empty road and up toward where Frank had come from. He knew he could take them both out, even at the same time.

If he had taken a hit recently, he might have done it too. But he knew better right now. There were too many variables.

Instead, he trailed behind slowly back toward the direction of his own apartment and to wherever the men were headed. Frank briefly considered how this money he needed could’ve come with some for his own needs. Some to pay rent, to keep his heat on. If only he had better self-control.

The men walked slowly, passing the fourth block from the theater. Faint clouds of their warm breath billowed behind them as they chatted. He shuffled behind, careful to keep his distance.

_Hurry the fuck up already_ , Frank thought. There wasn’t any more time he could afford to waste. If this wasn’t the one, he’d have to move onto another asap.

As if to read his mind, the two men finally directed toward an apartment complex. _Thank fuck_. Frank slowed, careful to not look suspicious. But he needed to see where they entered.

After a moment, they approached a door on the first floor. They appeared to exchange goodbyes, and the man with dark hair entered the apartment. The lankier man departed out of the complex and down the street.

Frank took the time to let it all settle. If he tried anything too quickly, he might be close enough to shout out to the other man or run after him.

Frank crouched near a tree outside the apartments. This was something he had never done before, but there was a time for everything amoral in his life.

He patted his back pocket, checking to see that his butterfly knife was in its usual home. He zipped his jacket all the way up before removing a ski mask from the exterior pocket. He had it in there in case the cops ever showed, but never thought he’d use it.

He pulled it over his head and took one last breath before starting toward the place. There wasn’t any going back now. The boss was gonna get his grand and Frank was getting back in good favor.

When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment. His outstretched arm went to knock, but his knuckles only grazed the door. Any mistakes and he could wind up in jail. Sure, Lorenzo’s guys would bail him out fast, but that wasn’t another target he needed on his back.

He didn’t have any room for self-doubt in this moment. If he acted like he knew what he was doing, surely he could fake his way through.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

Nothing at first, but some clattering from within the apartment. Frank reached back, pulling the knife from his pocket and concealing it inside his jacket sleeve.

Then, “Ok asshole, what did you leave?” He heard the man’s voice say, muffled from inside.

A few clicks of the lock and the door swung in.

Frank prepared himself to jump, but the man was somehow already a few paces away from the entrance with his back facing him.

He plodded away on his bare feet, appearing to be in pajamas. But soon enough, his steps became rigid. His movements stopped all together, freezing him facing away from Frank in the doorway.

“Don’t scream.” He said. It came out a little less confidently than he intended, but the way he saw the man shiver at the words reassured him slightly.

It wasn’t a particularly fancy place, but it was decent enough. Exposed brick walls, a small TV and a couch. Frank already had begun appraising for valuables.

The man shifted slightly in front of him, leaning forward on his extended foot like he was considering running. But Frank knew better.

“ _Don’t_ , or I’ll cut your throat open.”

Frank had threatened a million people in his life. It was part of the business he came from and the lifestyle he lived. But something about threatening this man that was outside the drug trade just felt different.

The man nodded, his stringy black hair falling forward over his shoulders.

Frank took this moment to approach him in a few quick strides, before gripping the back of his neck. He knew he wouldn’t run, but he didn’t want to give him options. Instinctually, he pressed the unopened knife into the small of the man’s back, herding him forward.

“That’s it, now walk to the couch.”

The man nodded and began walking. Frank still hadn’t seen his face, but something told him he was close to tearing up from the way his shoulders were heaving.

Frank sniffed, feeling his nose dry up. The cold air and his withdrawal was making his whole face sting. When they reached the couch, he hurled the man around and into a sitting position.

“I’m gonna keep this simple. Where’s your money?” Frank spat, “What’s worth something in here?”

He looked down through the eyes of the mask to finally meet the face of the man he was about to rob.

He was young, probably around his mid-20’s like himself. His complexion was strikingly pallid, and his face was framed with shaggy black hair. His hazel eyes were rimmed with sunken dark circles. He was somewhat androgynous, with a round face and fuller figure. His grey tee shirt hung from his body in an oversized fashion.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t answer. Frank took this as a time to remind him who was in charge, raising the blade up to meet his face. His left hand grip never left the crook of the man’s neck.

“You were being so good before, hm?” Frank jeered, “Tell me or I’ll stab it out of you.”

He cringed internally at his own statement, but the man recoiled enough for him to consider it effective. The man finally spoke.

“I don’t know how much cash I have, but my wallet is on my dresser in the bedroom.” His voice was surprisingly firm, despite the panic in his eyes.

He could tell the man was trying to play it cool.

“Kay. And what else? I didn’t come here for your pocket change.”

Frank shifted around. His Timberlands were killing him after all the walking and this guy needed to help him move this along faster.

“Got a computer. It’s on my desk in the same room.”

The man answered a little too quickly. Frank narrowed his eyes, inspecting for any lies on his face. Just to be sure, he drove his point home. He didn’t have the fucking time of day for this little shit to be leading him on.

He tested the soft, sharpened point of his knife with his own finger, before leaning forward to grip the man’s neck firmly in threat.

“Listen,” He said, making sure the man him clearly, “I’m only gonna say this once.”

The man shivered slightly, but met his eyes for a moment and nodded. He could almost see the man’s mind racing behind them.

“I’m gonna walk you to the bedroom. You’re gonna grab the wallet and the computer, and anything else I ask for. No funny business.”

Frank knew that every minute he was there was an increased risk to him. He had to speed this along.

“Up.” Frank commanded, grazing the point of the knife near the man’s throat for emphasis.

He rose quickly and obediently, showing no signs of wanting to run. This was all going better than Frank had expected.

“Fight, scream… You’re dead.” He added, as the man diligently walked to the bedroom in front of him.

He moved forward slowly, flipping on the light in the room they entered. He made a beeline to the dresser that was against the corner wall, and removed a leather wallet from the pocket of a pair of pants atop it.

Frank followed behind him, quickly taking the wallet out of his hands. He shoved the man onward, toward the desk that presumably had his computer. He flipped open the wallet, counting a few twenties in the billfold.

When he glanced up, the man seemed to be unplugging his computer and trying to hand the entire thing to Frank then and there. Frank tisked.

“Nuh uh, sit at the desk.”

He knew how this shit worked. Password protection, encrypted documents… While he had the guy here, he was gonna get all the info he could get. A couple passwords could get him a debit card account or at very least some knowledge to scare the guy into silence with.

“Think I’m stupid? Type the password in. Unlock it.”

The man had sat at the desk and was stupidly staring down at the unopened laptop. At Frank’s words, he begrudgingly flipped it open and began to type.

Frank hovered over him, noting the password he entered.

“Open your email.”

Frank really didn’t have a plan. He just wanted to see what he could find. After a few minutes of searching and writing things down, he seemed to have collected enough info on this guy to impersonate him online long enough to get more money.

“Open that icon.”

He commanded the man, Gerard, he now knew, to open the last remaining icon. When it appeared on screen, it seemed to just be photos. He had him scroll anyhow, in case he could find something of use.

Mostly nothing, just some embarrassing pictures and a shitload of scanned cartoons, _fuckin weirdass_ … Until something caught Frank’s eye.

“Go back.”

He didn’t know at first why he was doing this. It did sorta feel fucked up, and could’ve had something to do with how damn tired and frantic he was getting.

But within the photo folder, Frank had undoubtedly had spotted some nudes.

He could see the man tense up, so he knew he was right.

“Yep, there.” Frank gestured toward the two small icons he was talking about.

Without much of a fight, the man clicked and opened the first image. An involuntary sigh escaped from him as it came up.

It was a dated, point-and-shoot digital camera photo of the man. The flash ruined any remaining photo quality it ever had. He was very much naked, and bent over on a bed on his knees. His ass was spread slightly with one hand, exposing what was between his sizable thighs. A thin black collar adorned his neck.

Fuck. Frank swallowed thickly, blinking before commanding, “Next.”

But the man didn’t move. A few seconds passed, and the first photo stayed on screen.

“Why are you doing this? Is this some kind of fucked up kink of yours?” His voice came, shrill and on the verge of cracking.

Frank knew this was far off from why he broke in, but some ideas came flooding to him as he heard the sheer embarrassment in the man’s voice.

“I said fucking next photo.” He reminded the man of the blade in his hand quickly before closing it again.

The second photo appeared.

It was clearly from the same time, on the same camera. He was still knelt on the bed. The shitty flash made him look like a ghost. But this time he was up on his knees, holding the camera above his head to take a downward shot of his naked body. His eyes were huge, rimmed with black liner and burning into the camera with a fake begging expression. His cock was hard.

“Mm, what are we gonna do about that?” Frank said before he could even help himself.

He told himself it was to make the man feel even more humiliated. Any feelings of unadmitted arousal were washed away in his desire to keep the guy’s trap shut.

“This is really sick, ya know? I’ll give you my money, my laptop, just plea-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Frank wrenched the man out of the chair by his hair. Although he hadn’t done anything wrong, Frank felt sickened by his presence. Sickened by the pictures.

He shoved him out of the way, leaning over to take control of the computer himself.

“Listen up,” Frank said, as he put his new plan into action, “I don’t wanna fuckin’ kill you ok? I don’t need that kind of shit on me.”

As if he were ever going to kill him. He definitely would’ve drugged him, but this was a better idea.

“What I’m doing here is protecting my real estate. And you’re gonna watch me do it so you know what’s up.” Frank said, dragging and dropping the images into an email to himself along with a few other important documents.

When he finished sending it, he turned the computer off and flipped it closed, taking it under his arm. He stood quickly, stepping into Gerard’s space.

Their faces were only inches away from each other.

“What are you-“ The man began, but Frank didn’t wanna hear it.

“You see that? Those photos? Mine now,” He said clearly, rolling his head and popping the tension out of his neck.

The man could hardly meet his eyes now. He just gazed at his own feet.

“You rat, you call your brother, you run out of here, I send them to everyone in that contact book.” Frank knew now who to send those pictures to after raiding his desktop.

The man said nothing, so Frank continued. What a genius move. The guys from work would really be proud of what kind of thinking he did here.

“That computer is wiped now. I’m takin’ in. And I’d consider this a fair trade. You zip it, I won’t expose you for being a fuckin’ whore to everyone in your life,” Frank spat. But the guy still wouldn’t look up at him.

He took him by the chin, wrenching his delicate face up to meet the slits in his ski mask.

“Look at me. Do you understand?” Frank said venomously. He just wanted to get out of here and cash the shit as fast as possible.

The man’s eyes finally looked up to meet him.

“I do,” He said softly.

“Good.” Frank replied.

And he headed out the door as quickly as he could, in anticipation that the guy might still call the cops on him.

In a very Lorenzo-trained fashion, he gave him a final reminder on the way out.

“Remember our deal.”

He slammed the front door shut without a second glance behind him, dashing off to a pawn shop to cash the computer before dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I will happily take pointers on where you want this to go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week has transpired since the robbery in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this!! I appreciate all of you. It should be picking up pace now. Let me know if you have suggestions.

_Remember our deal…_  

The papers expelled from drawers of his desk were fluttering loosely on the ground from the wind of the ceiling fan. The drawers of his dresser, hanging dejectedly out with shirts and pants spilling over the sides. Gerard ransacked his room for anything else that could’ve been taken and never moved anything after, for fear that he would need to retrace his steps. He didn’t want it to lose any freshness in his memory.

Sleep was scarce. He saw a man in a black mask in every setting his dreams had conjured up. Dilated pupils and defiled skin. His nasally voice and calloused fingers on the nape of his neck. The smell of smoke and alcohol on his breath.

When the sun was coming through the cracks of the panel curtains that morning, he turned over again for the thousandth time, hoping to get even five minutes of peaceful rest. 

Just as if God himself had heard his thoughts of agony, his alarm started blaring from the bedside table.

Fuck.

Gerard would be late if he let himself lay there for even another minute. So he forced himself up, against the will of his aching body. He had just enough time to slap together an outfit and splash water on his face before heading out the door. 

It happened exactly one week ago, as of last night. He had told absolutely no one, against his better judgement. Maybe there was no gravity in the statements the man had made, but something in his bones just told him to pretend like it never happened.

At least with other people, it had never happened. In his own mind, it may has well have happened every day. As he walked toward the train a couple blocks from his house, he couldn’t bring himself to put in his headphones like usual. He knew music would just conflict with his thoughts right now, rather than comfort him.

Mikey had texted him last night. He wanted to know how the job was going. 

Something about small talk just wasn’t coming naturally to him right now. He supposed a call later would be better than forcing an answer. He couldn’t imagine lying by omission to his brother. It just wasn’t his style. But Gerard was protecting both of them by doing so.

When the train arrived at his stop, he checked the time on his phone. It was about a 15-minute walk from the studio, so he had a rare couple of minutes to spare once he got there. He knew somewhere inside of him that he was taking a bit of a risk, but he quickly squashed the thought in favor of stopping for something to make his day better.

He had skipped breakfast and his head was pounding. It was the least he could do for himself. As the train arrived in the city, he dashed his way up the stairs and out of the station. It felt good about getting the hell out of Jersey. New York was in full swing, and the busyness was distracting him from his own narrative. 

A short walk toward the Cartoon Network office was a bodega, where he could at least get some basics. Gerard kept his head down as he stepped up into the cramped space, taking his place among the other customers. His hands found some cigarettes, a granola bar and a bottle of water out of muscle memory in a matter of seconds, and he quickly queued up to buy them and get out. It smelled musty, and the sound of people coughing from their winter colds was only slightly repulsive.

The large man in front of him in line sighed impatiently, craning his head to see why the line wasn’t moving. Someone at the counter must’ve been getting a lot of stuff.

If someone came in here with a gun he’d definitely be first to die since he was in the back of the line, Gerard thought. Intrusive paranoid imagery was a brain favorite in the city.

As the short line finally paced forward, he glanced the man holding up the line leaving with two bags full of items. Unusual for a corner store, he thought. He gave the person a once over as he passed. 

His eyes descended from feet up, looking at the man. And as he caught sight of his face, man with the bags looked right into Gerard’s eyes. For just a moment too long. 

In an instant, the man was out on the street with the chime of a bell hitting the door. And suddenly getting to work on time seemed to feel a lot less important.

Gerard shoved his items onto the closest shelf without any thought as to where they belonged, and he took a few hesitant steps out of line.

Normally this would feel like a horrible choice. Well not like Gerard normally ever had to pursue someone in this manner, he couldn’t believe he had broken out into a full jog in the direction of the stranger. 

The man was already well down the street, hurrying along in his heavy black jacket and doc martens.

Gerard pulled his unzipped jacket tightly around himself as he ran, feeling the sting of the mid-January air. If he lost him, he’d probably never forgive himself. So he grew some balls and decided to do something.

“Hey!” Gerard shouted. Not loud enough to concern passersby, but enough to get the man to glance over his shoulder quickly before speeding up his pace.

“Hey, wait up!” Mere steps were now between them as Gerard caught up, “Hey man!”

The man took a hard left down an alley, and Gerard hurried to fill the space between them. His messenger bag full of sketches slapped against his leg as he hurried along, slipping between people. 

He followed down the alley he had descended down, without a second thought as to his safety. And what met him on the other side nearly caused him to jump out of his skin.

The man was waiting for him right there on the corner, back to a dumpster with his bags deposited on the ground.

Before Gerard could process further, he was being hoisted against the brick wall.

“Why are you chasing me, fucker?” The man hissed, his hands forcing Gerard’s shoulders inescapably back.

Their faces were close together, unshielded for the first time. He was on the shorter side, but strongly built. He had unruly dark brown hair, hazel eyes, a lip ring and nose ring. The tattoos crept all the way up to the highest point on his neck. The man licked his lips, searching wildly for an answer in Gerard’s face.

He reeked of hazard. The textbook wrong type of person to be around. A gang banger. A punk rocker. A druggie. Gerard couldn’t rip his eyes off him. 

“I…” Gerard faltered, before finding his voice, “Can you let go of me? I really just want to talk.”

The man didn’t relent. His grip only tightened. Gerard felt his neck bending painfully forward with his head pressed against the brick wall.

“Talk?” He laughed, “Yeah, I ain’t got the fucking time man.” There it was. The unmistakable, adenoidal Jersey drawl. 

Gerard struggled against his hold, but eventually quit when it proved to be useless.

"But you have time to choke me out, dude?" Gerard coughed, swatting at him to no avail. All that earned him was a growl and fingernails digging into him bruisingly.

He chased him out here for an answer. For closure. And now this guy thought he wanted to fight. He should’ve known he’d have to work for civil discourse with a criminal.

“I know you!” Gerard said, as if it were plain as day, “And I _know_ you know me.” 

“You don’t know me, man,” He said lowly, his eyes never moving off Gerard. His fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Can you, please-“ Gerard tried softening his tone, “Please just let go of me dude. Clearly I’m not winning a fight here. I don’t even _want_ to fight you. I just wanna talk. _Please_.”

With that, the man dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Gerard slumped, regaining his composure with his back against the wall. He walked away, a few yards up the alley into a slim patch of sunlight.

“You-” Gerard started, “You recognize me. I know you do! I saw you look at me back there.”

The man was pacing back and forth in the light’s radius with his head in his hands, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to run or listen. Gerard stayed put, not wanting to approach him.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at man,” He said edgily, digging in his pocket. His voice echoed in the enclosed space.

“Oh please!” Gerard said, gesticulating toward him, “I’m telling you, I recognize you.”

The stranger pulled out a smoke and a lighter, sparking it up and taking a long drag as he stared down the alley away from Gerard.

“How?” He said, sounding like more of a statement than a question.

“Your uh… your hands,” Gerard said, wrapping his arms around himself, “Tattoos. I just knew.”

The man’s inked fingers flexed at his side as he seemed to ponder Gerard’s statement. He shook his head, saying nothing. He was being surprisingly receptive. He could’ve run away the moment Gerard said he recognized him, but he was still there. 

“I know it’s you, and I just want to say something to you,” Gerard said, “I’m not here to call the cops or do anything-“

“Then what the hell is it?” The man interrupted him, throwing up his hands in anger. He paced within the square of sunlight, not meeting Gerard’s eyes since he had released him from his grip.

Gerard hesitated, feeling nervous. He was unpredictable. He was, after all, the man who robbed him at knifepoint. Unless he was horribly mistaken, which he could infer at this point that he was not. But he had to make a better effort for the sake of his own sanity.

“I… I know you robbed me. I don’t know what you’re going through in life man, but I understand. I’m not here to judge-“ 

“Just fucking save it dude.”

The man cracked his knuckles, walked back over to where Gerard was standing in the shadows. He chose to lean against the wall a few feet from him, working on his cigarette. 

“Ok well… the point is, I don’t know what you’re going through. But you don’t know my story either. And those pictures…”

Suddenly Gerard was fighting his own emotions in an alley with a fugitive, “Those pictures, I just… No one can ever fucking see those. I don’t know what hell you did with them, but my life would be over before it even started if those got in the wrong hands. My family would probably never talk to me again.”

“You kept our deal right?” The man said roughly. He finally acknowledged it.

“Yeah… Like I said, I’m not running to the cops,” Gerard said. He tried to look at the man, but he was watching his ashes fall onto the ground instead. 

“Then what’s your issue? What the hell do you want from me?”

Gerard shivered, hugging himself. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually got it out.

“You chased me down in the street man, just spit it out,” His tone was becoming unreadable, but Gerard had the feeling he was finally giving him the chance. 

He didn’t think he’d get this far, but he had to make an offer. It could be his only opportunity to rectify the situation. 

“What if I did something in exchange for the pictures?” Gerard said, feeling only slightly stupid for making an offer to a thief, “I can’t sleep at night knowing they’re out there at all.”

A moment too long of reflection, before he responded.

“What could you possibly do for me?” He said bitterly.

“Like… I can help you," Gerard countered, "With anything, really. I’m not strong, but I’m smart. I could get you a job, if you needed it…”

The man laughed at that sentiment, looking down at his feet.

“I think you got the wrong idea. I’m not stealing cuz I’m hungry. I’m stealing cuz that’s part of my job. And I don’t need charity in exchange for your nudes.”

Gerard winced.

“Then what do you want? I’ll clean your house for a month. Or I’ll cook,” Gerard was running out of offers.

The man sighed, dropping the remainder of the cigarette and stomping it out on the asphalt. He turned toward Gerard, looking intensely at him.

 “You really can’t find a use for me?” Gerard asked, sounding disappointed and desperate as they stared at each other’s faces, “I’ll help with anything you need man, as long as you trash those fucking pictures in the end. No bullshit. Just a simple exchange.”

The man inched closer to Gerard, inspecting him for god knows what, craning his neck. Filling Gerard’s nose with smoke. He felt his breath catch in his throat.

“If you’re really serious about it,” The man said lowly, “I can think of some things."

His tone was once again unreadable, and Gerard felt unsettled. He had just voluntarily suggested indebting himself to a criminal with all his personal information in a dark alleyway. He could end up shot, beat or dead if this man decided he made the wrong move. But he couldn't bring himself to back out.

The idea of losing his brother, his best friend, over those pictures had made him so sick that he would do anything to make sure it never came true.

"You better mean it."

Gerard let a forced smile creep across his face at the acceptance, before adding, “Well within reason of course. I do mean it. My…name is Gerard…”

He extended his hand out to the man as a peace offering.

“Frank.”

He didn’t reach out to shake, only spitting on the ground by their feet, “And I need to fuckin be somewhere, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Frank then walked over to where he had left his bags and scooped them up, before brushing past Gerard like he was a crack in the sidewalk.

“Wait! Don’t you need my number or something?” He called, walking back out toward the street behind him.

“Already have it, sweetheart.” He laughed, reaching in the bag. He removed a wad of loose cash from under piles of chips and other grocery items. 

"The trick is to have them check in the back for something," Frank grinned, flicking through the stolen money before disappearing into the mix of people on the city street. Gerard was left to consider what he had just signed up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Leave me a comment


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard heads over to Frank's place to carry out their bargain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's sticking with this! I love you lots and love hearing from you.

Gerard was late to work that day, after his meetup with Frank. Normally that would’ve been made him so stressed he would’ve thrown up in the bathroom, but his mind was occupied with considering the exchange they had made.

He spent the next few days checking his phone compulsively, wondering what he had agreed to, and when he was going to finally take him up on his offer. And right when he was starting to think that the whole thing was bullshit and the thief had lied to him, he finally got it. 

It was Saturday morning, about four days after their meetup, and Gerard had just woken up. He shuffled out of his bedroom in pajamas with the blanket still wrapped around him to turn on the coffee pot. His phone buzzed on the counter as it finally began to percolate.

_Text from (201) 226-8101_

He figured it would be Mikey asking him about his week, but it was an unknown number.

It must be Frank.

Gerard waited for the coffee finish brewing. It was too fucking early for this. He filled a mug and picked up his phone, walking over to the couch to read it.

He finally unlocked his phone.

_-Gerard. You still serious about it?_

Gerard sighed, taking another sip of his coffee and typing out a reply.

_-This Frank? Yeah man I’m serious_

He sent it, finishing his drink off and standing to go get ready. He left his phone on the table and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get dressed. It would give time for the guy to reply. 

When he came back into the living room and picked up his phone. No reply yet.

He sighed, feeling hopeless. Who was he kidding? Frank could’ve been setting him up to get murdered for all he knew. He _robbed his fucking house_ , after all.

His phone finally buzzed.

_-Come to my place. 704 8 th street, apartment 6B. Across from the jackrabbit_

Gerard locked his phone, standing up to think. The Jackrabbit. That was a bar he’d walked past before, not too far from where he was at. Frank was close to him. He should’ve known.

Frank didn’t live in the best area, but it wasn’t the worst either. Not by a longshot. Probably even a little nicer than his spot. That eased his paranoia somewhat, but going over there was still a risk.

But this was his only shot at getting those pictures back. The only fucking way. Frank was a criminal and an asshole, but it was a risk he’d have to take to protect his relationship with Mikey. 

Gerard grabbed his boots and got ready to walk. If anything, he could just turn around if he changed his mind. He slipped on a jacket and headed out the door, gripping his phone tightly in case Frank messaged him again. 

* * *

 

When Gerard arrived at the address across from the bar, he held back a little out of the view of the apartments. He was sure of his decision. It had to be done.

_-Hey man I’m here._

He pressed send on his text, pocketing his phone and pulling his jacket around him snugly. The apartments were pretty average; a two-story brick building. There were even kids playing outside. Not where he’d expect a criminal to be. Come to think of it, he had no idea why Frank was stealing, though he said it was for his job.

_-Come up. 6B_

Frank confirmed a second time, and Gerard hesitated for a moment before going upstairs to where his place would be. It felt ironic to be knocking on the door in an act of respecting his privacy, when the man had literally broke and entered his place.

He waited a long minute before he finally came to the door, and suddenly felt like he was going to pass out. 

The door swung in, revealing Frank standing there in the hall.

It was now nearly 11 a.m. and he was still in his pajamas, which consisted of an oversized Iron Maiden tee and some flannel pants. A gold chain hung around his neck, glinting.

“Come in,” He said groggily, moving out of the way for Gerard to enter.

His hair was messily sticking up in the back, and he smoothed it with is tattooed fingers as he walked toward the kitchen.

Gerard followed him in, stopping by the kitchen bar and watching as Frank got a glass of water for himself without offering him one.

 “’M gonna get dressed and head to the office for a bit. I figured you could make yourself busy around here,” Frank said groggily, leaning over the counter and eyeing Gerard.

“Oh, yeah ok…” Gerard nodded, surprised he was getting to it so quick, “So what did you want me to work on, exactly?”

Frank smiled and gestured out toward the living room behind him. It was decent, with a black leather couch, a flatscreen and a vase on the coffee table. But it was messy for sure. Lived in, would be the word his mother would politely choose. Dishes on the side table, some jackets scattered around, and looked like it could use some deep cleaning.

“Cleaning and cooking were your services right? Why don’t you get started on the living room today,” Frank said, with a bit of a condescending tone in his voice, “I’d also like a hot meal when I get home. Not much in the fridge, so you’ll have to run to the store.”

Gerard thought he probably was torturing him with these mundane activities, but he was secretly overjoyed. Cleaning and cooking was easy. He didn’t always love doing it for himself, but doing it for other people was fun for some reason. It was a project.

“Ok then,” Gerard nodded, keeping a straight face, “Anything you’d prefer I make?”

 He was being a bit of a kiss-ass, but whatever. Frank had already began walking to his bedroom, presumably to get ready.

“Nah. Surprise me,” He called. 

Gerard was overjoyed. As long as this wasn’t all a trap and someone was going to run in and kidnap him, this was a cakewalk.

He took a minute to familiarize himself with the space, pacing around and observing the living room and kitchen. A white Les Paul on a stand stood in the corner, along with a small amp. On the coffee table were some photography books on New York City and even what seemed to be comics. Gerard would have to inspect later.

Frank emerged from the back hall after a couple minutes, freshly shaved and looking like he just did a hit of something in his room. His eyes were very awake and very dilated. He wore the same puffer jacket, ripped jeans and boots from when he had robbed the bodega.

“Alright, I’ll be back around 5,” Frank sniffed, reaching into his pocket, “Go to the store and get stuff for dinner and whatever else. You’ll be doing this a lot, so get what you need." 

Frank pulled out $60 in twenties and shoved them into his palm. Gerard nodded, pocketing the cash.

“And I know I don’t need to remind you this, but I know where you live and I have more info than just that,” He was about three inches from Gerard’s face, staring threateningly, “And you’re not gonna find shit if you snoop.”

“Frank,” Gerard said firmly, “You can trust me. That’s not why I’m here.”

Frank grinned, shaking his head.

“It’s not about trust, Gerard. It’s about keeping our promises. Get to work,” He stepped out the door before leaning back in once more, “Oh, and I don’t eat meat.” 

And Frank was out the door, leaving Gerard alone on a Saturday to clean, shop and cook for a total stranger. The stranger who felt it was ok to steal and blackmail, but steak was crossing the line. 

Gerard did get to work, right away. He began picking up in the living room, doing dishes, locating the vacuum and the duster and putting them to use. Frank wasn’t terribly messy, but he clearly wasn’t home a lot and didn’t make the time to do these things.

In the time he cleaned, he also made his way over to the bedroom. The curtains were drawn, and he had to open them to see what was around. In the daylight, Gerard could see his room would be an entire project of its own. It was full of scattered clothes, stubbed out cigarettes, empty bottles and clutter.

The black silk sheets on the sprawling bed were rumpled from where Frank had slept. A metal safe was next to his bed, which likely contained drugs and weapons. Gerard shuddered, remembering who this man was.

He next decided to hit the store next. Frank had left him a spare key on the counter, which he presumed was his to keep for the time being. He let himself out and walked to the place he usually shopped for himself, since they weren’t far from his own home.

He wanted to make something that Frank would enjoy, so hopefully he would see the value of keeping Gerard around. The better today went, the better his chances were of getting the photos deleted.

He brought the grocery items home, with enough ingredients for a few dinners and lunches within his given budget. It was already 3 o’clock, and he got started cooking. Gerard was no five-star chef, but food was like art. When done with love and intention, it turned out the way he wanted.

When 5 rolled around, Gerard was well finished with his tasks and ready to hopefully impress Frank with his hard work. He had made a week’s worth of lunches for Frank to grab on his way out: rice bowls with tofu and vegetables, carefully packaged in Tupperware and stacked inside the fridge.

For dinner, Gerard had prepared a modified version of his mom’s beef stroganoff, but substituted the meat for mushrooms instead. It was hot and ready to be plated with pasta, when Frank walked through the door. It flung open, revealing a disheveled Frank.

“Hey,” Gerard greeted from the kitchen over the hum of the overhead vent on the stove.

“Mm,” Frank grunted, walking straight back to his bedroom.

And, Gerard was a little disappointed to say the least. He didn’t respond to the spotless, shining living room. Didn’t comment on the smell of the food. He had only spend his entire day off doing this for him. 

Almost 20 minutes pass and Frank still hasn’t emerged from his bedroom. The food would get cold if he waited any longer, so he decided to go get him. He walked down the hall (shoes off, he just vacuumed) and knocked on the closed bedroom door gently.

“Frank?” He called, waiting for a response. When none came he tried again, “Frank I’m sorry, but your dinner is ready. Come eat before it gets cold, ok?”

Gerard walked back to the kitchen, when he heard the door swing open from behind him Frank finally came out, changed into shorts and an old tee, exposing the ink that continued down to his legs and feet. 

Gerard set the plate out on the counter with a fork and a napkin, feeling proud of it as Frank approached.

“This for me?” Frank grumbled, sounding hoarse.

Gerard nodded, pushing it toward him.

“What, none for yourself princess?” Frank snorted, picking it up and plopping down on the couch with it. He put his feet up on the clean table, making Gerard cringe.

He waited for a reaction.

“You gonna stare at me while I eat from over there?” Frank looked over, “Ah, you poisoned me and you’re waiting to see what happens,” He laughed, taking a bite anyway.

Gerard hadn’t even considered that, but clearly Frank had.

“You know you can like… leave, right?” Frank said, “I’ll call if I want you to come back.”

That fucking dick. It was a business deal, but the least he could do was let him know he noticed anything he did. He should’ve known it would go like that. Gerard sighed, swiping his copy of the key off the counter and quickly walking toward the door without replying. He stomped over and retrieved his coat off the chair by the door.

“What? Did I hurt your feelings, Gerry?” Frank said with his mouth partially full.

Gerard huffed, running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly. He had to choose his words carefully.

“No, you didn’t hurt my feelings, _thanks_ ,” Gerard felt his attitude kicking in anyway, “I just thought you might want to comment on anything I did.”

“Well what did you do?” He responded, sounding bored.

“Well let’s see,” Gerard spat, “I cleaned the living room, did all your dishes, even the ones in your room, vacuumed, dusted, mopped the kitchen, shopped, made you lunches for the entire week, made you dinner, OH and I even respected your space and didn’t go through your shit.”

Frank didn’t say anything. He just continued eating, bouncing his stupid leg crossed on the table he just cleaned.

“I just want to hear you like it so I know what to keep doing! Some feedback. How’s the food? Does it look clean in here?” Gerard said, sounding exhausted, “I was doing this for five hours so I’d like to know. I’m trying to uphold my end of the bargain. I’m supposed to be making you happy...”

Gerard didn’t mean to let that slip. He really shouldn’t care if Frank was happy. He did what he was supposed to do. But for some reason, he wanted to know he did well. 

“It looks dandy Gerard. Even that stain on the curtains I was hoping you’d get out. It looks awesome,” Frank said, feigning saccharine enthusiasm, “And I love bringing a nice boxed lunch to my job at the cartel, it’s so convenient!”

Gerard’s jaw fell slack. He really couldn’t believe it. The balls this guy had.

He took his coat off the chair so quickly it fell down when he whipped it into his arms, and he let it fall to the ground with a resounding crack. 

“Honestly Frank, fuck you,” Gerard said, “Have a great night.”

Gerard opened the door stepping out into the cold evening chill.

“Night, Gerard,” Frank said, disgustingly calm as ever, before Gerard slammed the door shut behind him and ran down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter. I think it's really telling of their personalities for the first time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a filler chapter, but our man Frank has a sexual crisis so that's great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love this chapter honestly even if I slammed it out in like an hour. I'm tryna get to the sexy stuff.

After his run in with Gerard at the bodega nearly a week ago, Frank had a lot to take care of at work. He had raised back the money with his theft. He’d also managed to gain a few new customers just by hanging out at the bar and preying on drunken partiers. This was finally his chance to go back into work with his head held high.

With all that Lorenzo had done for him throughout the years, he wanted to be the top dog again. The next day he was able to take his earnings in and say he didn’t disappoint him.

“Well Frankie, what did you accomplish since our last meeting, hm?” It had been over a week since he had seen Lorenzo. The older, bald man was seated behind his desk again, surrounded by the other men. Group meet-ups were stressful, especially when the guys working for him were doing better.

Frank stood up straight, hoping this would go the way he had hoped. He knew he was being scrutinized hard after a period of failure.

“Well boss, I got the grand back for you. Got some new customers too. Reckon I raked in about three thousand total for you this week…” Frank held his breath, searching the man’s face for a reaction.

Lorenzo was silent for a moment. The entire room waited for his reaction.

“Frank,” He said, before a smile cracked finally, “Attaboy. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. I knew, my boy.”

The other men murmured, nodding and clapping Frank on the back in approval.

“Good job, brother.”

“Back on top Frankie.”

The room bustled with approval for Frank, and his sense of balance in the universe was as quickly restored as it had left him. His own drug habit had been effecting his ability to sell for almost two months now, and everyone knew it. But he had been trying to cut back, and busting his ass stealing and hustling to get his earnings. Cutting coke out had been a struggle, but he was getting there. All his profits were going into his face last month.

“I gotta ask, where did you dig it up, man? That’s a shitload of cash,” One of the other guys, Sal, asked him.

Frank sniffed, “Ah fuck man I don’t know… I sold the shit…”

“Ah come on! Just tell us details. It’ll help us all, I’m sure,” Sal laughed, looking around as the other men nodded in approval.

“I’m interested Frankie,” Lorenzo smirked, gesturing to him with open palms, “Give them a lesson.”

Frank sighed, not wanting to get into it. But it’s not like he was the worst felon there. Not even close.

“Ahh alright…” Frank cracked, “Well it really was honest selling. ‘Cept this one guy I robbed for the initial grand.”

The men hissed and laughed, urging him to continue.

“I broke into the dude’s apartment. Followed him home. Pretty weak. Sort of a twink if we’re bein’ honest,” He laughed to himself, “I took his computer and some other shit.”

“Better not have cops on your back, boy, I don’t have the time,” Lorenzo said dauntingly, prompting Frank to reassure him.

“No, no,” Frank said quickly, shifting in his place, “I actually found some uhh… _nudes_ on his computer and blackmailed him with it. He’s shut like a steel trap.”

“No fuckin’ way man,” Sal interjected, “You kidding me?”

“M’serious,” Frank smirked, hanging his head, “Even got the guy doing my chores to get ‘em back, and I’ll never give them to him.”

All the guys seemed to love that, because the roar of laughter in the office was deafening. Another round of shoving Frank playfully and assuring him that he was number one again. Whether he had meant that statement or not, he was unsure.

“You got the pics on you? I could use a good laugh,” Another man Frank didn’t know by name asked.

“Yeah, in my email somewhere…” Frank plucked his phone out of his back pocket, listening to hoots and hollers from the men as they waited.

“Here…” He pulled up the first pic of Gerard, spread open on the bed, and forfeited his phone to the mob of them. A strange pang of unidentified emotion hit him when he handed it over though, and he couldn’t understand why.

“Oh fuck dude, this is some sick shit!” Sal laughed, passing the phone to another guy, “He’s not ratting to anyone anytime soon, is he?”

“Fuckin’ faggot. Kinda looks like a girl if I squint though,” One of the guys said, “He’s got a nice ass.”

“Yeah Frankie maybe get some more _favors_ out of him before you tell him to fuck off,” said another.

“Get him to bend over Frankie!”

Frank looked at Gerard, spread out and open like that, for the first time since he saw the picture.

Then his mind cut to him standing in the kitchen with the dinner he had made, looking like he was going to cry because of Frank’s hurtful words.

The day before had been a rough one for Frank. He had left Gerard at his place with the key and some cash to make him food that afternoon. Not much to it. He knew the guy didn’t have the balls to betray him. But when he came home, Frank was on a coke withdrawal and couldn’t hardly stand to be near anyone.

He had gone off on Gerard to get him to leave him alone. And when he had finally eaten the meal he had prepared and felt less like dying, he took a look around the place and realized he’d more than kept up his end of the bargain.

Gerard had cleaned every nook and cranny of his living room and kitchen. But the thing that killed him was the boxed meals. They were just stupid rice and tofu in Tupperware, but when he opened the fridge and saw all the time and effort he had put into it, he thought of his mom. No one had done shit for him since she was alive.

But his coke induced highs and lows were eclipsing his real personality. And unlike his mom, Gerard didn’t care whether he lived or died. He just wanted these pictures deleted. Frank needed to remind himself that what he did was right. He was a cold, spiteful motherfucker who was just looking to make some cash.

And after the meeting was dismissed and Frank went home, he had plenty of time to remind himself of that fact.

He opened the fridge and wolfed down one of the rice bowls without even heating it up, heading back to his bedroom to get his mind off of everything.

He opened his safe and took out a bottle of Xanax, crushing up a pill on the hand mirror on his desk with a razor. He snorted the pill a neat line, straight up his nose, before feeling a familiar soft emptiness encasing him. The shit was terrible, but it was helping him get off coke, so it was something. He traded a stimulant for a depressant.

Frank laid on his bed, letting his high kick in. He hadn’t talked to Gerard since he stormed out yesterday, and maybe he should if he still wanted his help. He’d wait until the morning…

_But what if he was already not wanting to come back?_ Maybe he should just text him now and get it over with, Frank thought.

He grabbed his phone off the bedside table, feeling his head spin as he leaned back. He unlocked it. But fuck if he had forgotten the last thing he’d been looking at.

The same pic of Gerard with his legs spread, that ten men had passed around in the office. Their reactions were mixed, but resoundingly agreed that he had a nice ass.

Frank almost closed the photo by minimizing the photo app, but instead decided what would be the harm in deciding whether he thought the guy’s ass was nice or not. Frank hadn’t looked at the picture for more than two seconds both times he had seen it. And now the guy had a key to his house.

The picture quality was garbage. It was clearly old. But he could see what he needed to see. He must’ve taken it with a camera on a timer, because he was bent over on the bed with one hand in front of him and one hand spreading his ass.

And he was wearing a fucking collar. Fuck. Just like the guy work had said, if he squinted he really looked like a girl. He was all hips. Almost like his last girl, Jamia.

It had been so long since Frank had been with a girl, let alone made a friend. They’d been together when he was 21, and he was nearly 26 now. He had forgotten how a woman’s body had made him feel.

_Yeah, that’s why. Because he looks like a girl. He looks like your old girl._

He looked like Jamia. Of course he was turning him on. He tried to imagine lacy lingerie and breasts on him.

Despite his better judgement and in a stupor of intoxication, Frank found his hand sliding down into his pants. He unzipped himself from his jeans and took out his semi-hard cock, giving in a stroke.

The photo was still open on his phone, and Frank was staring at it with half-lidded eyes.

_He looks like a girl. Baby girl... So fucking feminine. Pretty. Delicate. It’s because he looks like he's got a pussy, that’s why. You like girls._

Frank spat in his palm before reaching down again and squeezing his cock harder, twisting, relishing in the friction.

_The fucking collar. His eyes. God, he wanted to fuck that slutty look right off his face..._ Her _face..._

Frank moaned, speeding up on himself slightly. He let the phone hang loosely in his left hand as he stared. He stroked, feeling his eyes roll back in his head in pleasure before he took another glance at the pic.

_God, his fucking eyes. The eyeliner. Like a girl. A pretty, naughty girl._

As he reached his climax, he tried to image coming inside a woman, pumping her deep with his cock... But at the moment he came, his mind snapped right back to the image. Just Gerard. Flat chested, with his little hard cock hanging between his thighs.

Frank came all over his tattooed knuckles, nearly falling asleep shortly after.

He dragged himself up and cleaned off, before getting back in bed and wanting to throw his phone at the wall.

_Just cuz he looked like a girl. Such a pretty girl..._  Frank thought once more to reassure himself as he drifted off to sleep, without acknowledging to himself that he'd have to text Gerard in the morning if he ever wanted to hear from him again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still more buildup but the next chapter I'm working on is where we hit the ground running. Thanks again for sticking with me

It had been exactly one week since Gerard had seen Frank last Saturday, and his feelings about the entire situation were all different by the minute. On one hand, the more he saw Mikey, the more he didn’t want to let those pictures go. But he just couldn’t get that last unpleasant interaction with Frank out of his head.

Would every time he went over there be like that? Most likely. Frank was probably coked up and pissed off every day. But for all he knew, his shortcomings might have been the end of their bargain already. Gerard had done his best that week to forget about it and try to stay busy at work.

His job was not particularly challenging anyhow. Just coloring in backgrounds for cartoon panels. He missed having the time and energy to work on his own art.

About a year ago, Gerard had started his own comic. But somewhere between graduating college, keeping secrets from his family about his personal life, and finding a career, he had abandoned it out of stress. It broke his heart, but one day he would revisit it.

Gerard decided to meet Mikey at the coffee shop down the street that evening, hopefully to get his mind off things. Talking to his brother was grounding, even if he didn’t know his full story lately.

“You look tired,” Mikey commented passively, blowing on his hot coffee, “Work wore you down this week?”

Mikey had been his only friend at many points of transition in his life, and his compassion was something Gerard never took for granted. Not many brothers cared for each other in the same way as they did. Hiding so much from him was difficult.

Gerard sighed, “Yeah I mean work, and a million other things,” Gerard kept his eyes down, picking at a hangnail as he spoke. They sat by the window, and the sunlight kept his face warm as they chatted. “What about you?”

Gerard tried to change the topic off himself.

“I’m fine man. Just the same old shit at the bookstore for me. Been seein’ Alicia for almost four months now,” Mikey’s eyes softened as he brought up his girlfriend.

“That’s awesome man, she’s really cool,” Gerard nodded. And he meant it. She was a good match for him. Mikey was shy and she was bold and assertive, which was good for him. They balanced each other out.

“She is cool. Cooler than me,” Mikey laughed. He took a sip of his drink before continuing, “What about you, then? Anyone yet?”

Jesus Christ. The last thing he wanted to talk about, of course. It’s like his brother had a third eye and knew he was avoiding it subconsciously.

“Ugh, man you know…”

His phone buzzed, right at the opportune moment, and he decided to check the lock screen before continuing his thought.

_Text from (201) 226-8101_

Of course it was fucking Frank, that dick. The whole week goes by and now he wants to talk.

“Ohhh is that them now?” Mikey grinned, waggling his eyebrows, “How’s your girlfriend, Gee?”

Gerard laughed uncomfortably. Man, his brother really had no idea about anything.

“You mind if I read this for a sec? And no, it’s not my girlfriend,” He said, rolling his eyes, “It’s just… work.”

“Mhm.”

Gerard unlocked his phone, reading the text.

- _Come over_

Gerard almost laughed. What was this, a booty call? He was surprised Frank even wanted him to return after their last encounter. Gerard had practically broken the door when he left. He had some serious balls.

His phone buzzed again

- _Now_

Fuck.

“Uhh…” He rubbed his eyes and set his phone down, debating whether he wanted to do this but ultimately deciding it had to happen, “Shit Mikey I hate to do this, but they called me in to help with something at the office,” Gerard quickly falsified. He didn’t want to leave but for all he knew, Frank was already mad.

Mikey looked surprised, but nodded understandingly.

“Yeah man it’s no trouble. I’ll see you later on in the week,” He smiled sadly, “I wish we got to talk more today.”

Gerard nodded, “I know man, me too. I’m sorry dude.”

And before he knew it, he was out the door and headed down the road to where Frank’s apartment was. Since when was he putting this asshole before his brother? It reminded him of when he and Bert had dated. It drove a wedge between the two of them and Mikey had never even known about him. Except Gerard was doing this to protect his relationship with Mikey this time, he reminded himself. He had to keep reminding himself.

As he ran up the stairs to Frank’s place, he wondered what kind of trouble he was getting himself into this time.

“ _How’s your girlfriend, Gee?_ ” Mikey’s voice rung in his head, forcing him to knock on the door.

When it swung open, he was met with Frank, who looked drained. The dark circles under his eyes were pronounced. His usual pinprick pupils were blown up this time as he looked past Gerard into the last remaining daylight streaming into his dark apartment. His hair was a mess, but he actually was wearing decent clothes today. A flannel button-down and some black jeans.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show, Gerry,” Frank said flatly, stepping aside for him to enter.

“Don’t call me that,” Gerard said, a kneejerk reaction despite his better judgement.

Frank’s back was toward him as he paced into the kitchen. He ducked down into the fridge grabbing himself a beer and popping it open and turning to face him from behind the counter. Gerard observed that the place had already gotten a little cluttered since he had last visited.

“What should I call you then? Princess?”

“Cut the shit, Frank. Just tell me why you called me over here,” Gerard huffed, crossing his arms. He never left the doorway, only watching Frank who stood behind the counter.

Frank laughed, taking a long pull of the bottle before clanking it down.

“You got quite the temper, you know that?” He leaned on his elbows, grinning to himself, his lip ring glinting. And damn if that didn’t make Gerard pissed.

Frank was an objectively attractive man, which, for some reason, made him all the more irritating to be around. Perhaps he would even be Gerard’s type, had he not been a massive douche. Oh, and a drug dealer. So for those reasons, Gerard leaned on his anger defensively around him.

“I have the temper? You’re constantly pushing my buttons, Frank…” Gerard lost his inhibition and crossed the short distance from the door to the kitchen to grab the cleaning supplies from under the sink, “You want me to clean?”

He bent to rummage in the cabinet at Frank’s feet, but the man refused to move and give him the space to access it. He only stood above, looking at the TV and sipping his beer like he wasn’t even there.

“Want me to get that stain out of the curtain? I can do that for you. I can re-mop too it looks a little dirty in here again…” Gerard was on a frantic mission to just finish this shit and get as far away from Frank as possible. He drove him insane and quite honestly, he couldn’t stand to be around him.

He was already clutching a bottle of all-purpose cleaner and some paper towels wadded into his hand.

“Where is it? This curtain here?” He began to stand, but noticed Frank still wasn't paying much attention to his tempted action.

“Gerard, chill,” Frank said, smirking like an asshole.

Gerard’s eyes shifted from Frank to the counter and back again, trying to make some sense out of it.

“I just wanted some fuckin’ dinner. No cleaning involved,” Frank said, pacing toward the living room, “Stresses me the fuck out watching you clean anyhow.”

Gerard seriously thought something was up when he texted him, but apparently Frank was just already dependent on his cooking.

“Okay…” Gerard said slowly, narrowing his eyes, “I pissed you off so much last time, I’m surprised you still want me cooking.”

“Am I not asking you now?” Frank said, his tone becoming a little aggressive, “I’m just fucking hungry. Ran out of the shit you made last time.”

Gerard just sighed, moving out of his space and leaning to open up the fridge. Frank wasn’t lying. He had eaten all the rice bowls he had prepared, from the looks of it.

“I already shopped. Just use whatever’s in there,” Frank said, coming off his anger slightly. He twirled the bottle in his inked fingers.

“Fine…” Gerard relented, plucking a few items out and turning to place them on the counter, “I’ll get started then.” He knew Frank didn’t care what he made.

Frank didn’t respond. He walked over to the couch and took a seat, kicking up his feet like last time and turning on the TV. He was shocked Frank was being so blasé this time around. He hadn't looked at him.

Gerard glanced up as he began chopping vegetables, observing him warily. The open kitchen and the living room were essentially the same space, so they were within a short proximity of each other. He could almost feel the tension radiating between the two of them, but he decided to ignore it.

Nearly 30 minutes passed in the time he spent making a vegetable and lentil stew, and the two had not so much as looked at each other. Frank was zoned out on what appeared to be Mad Max, only getting up once to grab himself a couple more bottles of Corona out of the fridge.

Gerard really had a hard time figuring the man out. He had all this energy to be angry, but he was too lazy to cook himself a meal. So his solution was to call someone that made him angry to prepare him one. Gerard rolled his eyes, looking down at the boiling meal on the range as he considered it.

The meal was finally shaping up, and he dug out a large bowl and some silverware to serve it. He set it on the kitchen bar, contemplating whether he wanted to call out and tell Frank it was ready, or to give it a moment to cool down. But Frank beat him to it.

“That ready yet?” He said over the TV, still not turning to check.

_Fucking entitled-ass little-_

“Yep, it’s ready. Want me to bring it over?” Gerard replied, choking out the polite offer.

“Nah.”

Frank stood up from the couch and walked the short distance to the bar, bringing two empty bottles with him and plunking them into the trash. His messy hair hung over his eyes as he wandered over.

“I’m gonna sit up here. You wanna eat, princess? I’m sure you made enough for yourself,” Frank said, pulling out a barstool and sitting down. He was already tucking in to the meal.

Gerard had his back turned and had already started on the dishes, but Frank’s suggestion surprised him. He turned the sink off, looking back at him.

“I really should go home…” Gerard said quietly. He didn’t want to make him mad, but he felt uncomfortable here with him. The vibe between them was off today, more than usual. Particularly on Frank's end. He hadn't looked him in the eye all day, even when he walked in.

“Finish it,” Frank commanded crassly, mouth partially full, “Finish the rest. I want something fresh tomorrow.”

Gerard bit his lip, hesitating momentarily, but ultimately decided to follow his order. He was actually starving and didn’t have much at his apartment anyhow. He prepared himself the rest of the stew and brought it over to the counter, facing a seated Frank. He stood, not wanting to get too comfortable, as he began eating.

A few minutes of silence, with the cushion of the television playing in the background, transpired between them as they ate. Neither of them looked up, although there was only about three feet between them.

Gerard loved his food, luckily. Cooking vegetarian was an interesting challenge for him, and this was something he wouldn’t normally make, so it gave him some new ideas. It was honest to god still funny that Frank didn’t eat meat, despite all his repugnant character traits.

“Something funny?” Frank broke their silence. And fuck, Gerard must’ve snorted to himself when he was thinking of it.

“Oh I was just thinking… It’s stupid,” Gerard smiled to himself, stirring the soup.

“Well fuckin say it,” Frank gave him his same attitude again.

Gerard sighed.

“I just think it’s funny you don’t eat meat. You know… considering everything else about you,” Gerard winced when it left his mouth. He had no idea how that came off.

“What about me, exactly, Gerard?” Frank was baiting him. He still hadn’t looked up from his food.

“Just… You’re not exactly an empathetic person,” Gerard said honestly, albeit not confidently.

Frank didn’t respond for just long enough to unsettle him deeply, making him feel like he should run out the door. After about 30 seconds, he got a reply.

“We all start out empathetic. My mother was a vegetarian,” Frank said, though it was unclear if the tightness in his voice indicated defensiveness. Gerard couldn’t believe he had gotten more than a barking command or a snide remark out of him.

“Oh really? Did she… inspire you to become one?” Gerard hedged, being polite.

“Yeah,” He smirked, “My old man called me a pussy for it too. Had to do it forever just to piss him off.”

Gerard nodded, still a little surprised they were talking at all. But he was interested, he supposed. He wanted to know how Frank ended up the way he did.

“So does he still make fun of you for it then?” Gerard wondered.

Frank laughed bitterly, scraping at the bowl in front of him but not moving to eat.

“Nah,” He said, smile fading, “Both my parents died a long time ago.”

Damn. Not something he ever thought he'd discuss with a criminal. But nothing about the progression of their relationship had been normal to begin with.

“I’m sorry, Frank…” Gerard said sincerely, looking at him from across the counter.

He only shook his head in reply, as if to erase the thought from his own mind.

“S’okay, it happened when I was like 15, so it was like almost 11 years ago now,” Frank said, seeming a little uncomfortable. His body had tensed and he was now peeling the label off his empty beer bottle.

Gerard thought of anything to clear the air, so he said the first thing that came to mind when dealing with this delicate subject matter.

“I guess I know the feeling. My grandma died not too long ago, and she was the only one who knew me,” Gerard offered in solidarity, “I mean, the real me. I’m sure you get what I mean.”

“That you’re gay,” Frank said bluntly, although it came off as an honest prompt, without a trace of mockery.

“Y-yeah…” Gerard said, wondering if Frank had been thinking that fact this whole time, “I mean obviously with those pictures… My parents and brother would probably never speak to me again.”

Frank took a moment to digest this information. Gerard was still surprised he wasn’t throwing his sexuality in his face. He actually hadn’t done that even once to him, despite how big of a dick he could be. Maybe Frank had more empathy than he gave him credit for.

“How come you told your grandma but not them?” He asked, seeming genuinely interested. He had finally looked at Gerard, and his hazel eyes were burning into Gerard in an inescapable gaze.

“She just knew,” Gerard murmured, feeling a pang of sadness. He missed her every day. Living without his parents must’ve made Frank’s life even worse. His story was one of misunderstanding.

“My mom was like that,” Frank said, voice raspy from his smoking habit, “Knew I was on dope before I even got into the business.”

Gerard was relieved for the topic change off his sexuality, piquing his interest in any information he could get out of Frank.

Gerard nodded, letting a moment of quiet transpire before he tried pushing his luck a little, “So… how did you get into it then? …If you don’t mind me asking.”

Frank seemed to think Gerard’s politeness was funny, because he smiled at the follow-up.

“My dad, actually. He wasn’t down in the bullshit like I am. More of a leader,” He said, seeming to think about his answer carefully, “When he died, his boss protected me like a son… Promised my dad that if anything ever happened to them, he would make sure I got by. It’s shit, but the money is something I can’t pass up.”

Gerard didn’t respond. He only looked at Frank, flattered that he would divulge this personal information to him. They were still relative strangers, but neither of them had many people in their lives other than each other outside of work.

“So your parents…” Gerard began, “I mean, since they passed… Did you have much of a childhood? I noticed that you had like, a copy of Watchmen over there and I couldn’t help but wonder…”

“You saw that?” Frank cut him off, looking up at him again. His face seemed to soften for the first time, maybe ever since Gerard had met him.

“Yeah man, I… I work in art. I make comics and cartoons…” Gerard said, trying his best to sound humble, “It was like the first thing I noticed,” He laughed, smiling warmly.

“No fucking way dude,” Frank whispered.

And as they talked for a long stretch of time about super heroes, books and other childhood staples, Gerard had the realization that Frank wasn’t a bad person. He was once a vulnerable child, just like he was. But his youth had been stolen from him far too early, and there was little evidence to prove he was ever the son of parents who cared for him.

He could tell that no one had discussed anything lighthearted with him in years, based on his enthusiasm for it. Nasty, manipulative, drug-abusing, tattooed and pierced, but he still couldn’t bring himself to eat a chicken or a cow, and still owned an original copy of Spiderman from when he was eight. Much like the villains in comics, they had started with good intentions and were victims of circumstance.

As it neared 11 o’clock, Gerard mentioned he had to work in the morning and saw himself to the door.

“Thanks for talking with me Frank…” Gerard hovered in the doorway, nodding to Frank who saw him out.

“Mm,” Frank sniffed, shrugging, “S’nothing. You better come back tomorrow and cook again. I expect to see you after work since you didn’t do shit this week.”

Gerard laughed a little, hearing the villain in Frank return like they hadn’t just had a heart-to-heart. He had almost forgot how they had even ended up meeting in the first place, even briefly. But something felt like it changed, for better or worse, in their dynamic. He wondered briefly if the other man felt it too.

“Whenever you want me there,” Gerard said softly, countering Frank’s demanding tone. He stepped out into the night air, “Goodnight Frank.”

Frank stood at the door, watching him walk away, as he sparked up a smoke.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, baby. Finally a reward for making it this far. Shouts to all of you who cared up till this point.

Frank felt more like shit than he ever had that week.

He was making progress on getting himself off the hard stuff, but the withdrawals had been hell. On top of that, he had been trying his best to maintain a distance with Gerard. Having him in front of him made it almost impossible to forget.

He tried the first time after he revisited the pictures, ignoring him for the week. And he tried a second time, when Gerard was in his apartment cooking for him and he kept his distance. But he somehow managed to get him to crack and have a more-than-acquainted conversation about their lives.

After all the topics he and Gerard had covered, and how much he had unintentionally let slip about himself, he just couldn’t think about him knowing that he had touched himself to those pictures. He told Gerard he was going to have him come over the next day when he left, but he needed a break. He wasn’t a fag like Gerard. He just looked like a damn girl.

A few days had passed and Frank was luckily preoccupied with the business to keep his mind off it all. It was February now, and there was a push among the other guys to get stuff moving before spring.

A long week at work had come and gone again with no real excitement. But he had spent more time with the guys than he ever had, since they were interested in Frank’s tricks of the trade. The story of Gerard and his 3k week was interesting to them, clearly. He had spent the day on a ride-along with Sal and Vincent, showing them places he got the most action.

“Couple of the guys and me are gonna head to Jack’s after work tonight,” Sal told him between drags as they stood outside the boss’s place, done for the day, “You tryna tag along?”

Frank probably shouldn’t hang around Jackrabbits since it was his primary place of sales, as they knew now. He didn’t want the owner becoming suspicious of him. And yet, he found himself agreeing.

“Sure man, I should get out more,” Frank said, leaning against the concrete wall, “What time?”

It would be a good way to get his mind off shit. He never had any fun. A drink would probably ease his tension.

“Probably around 10,” Sal said. He tucked his carton of smokes into his jacket, before turning toward his car, “See you then?”

“Yeah, thanks man,” Frank nodded, thinking about what he had agreed to.

* * *

 

  
Frank stood in the mirror, fixing his hair, a couple minutes before their agreed meetup time. He didn’t look a total mess like he usually did. Maybe if he looked decent he could bring a girl back to the place and get lucky. That would be the best thing for him right now, and he didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him sooner.

He selected a pair of hole-free black jeans, his Docs, and a black, slim-fitting polo. He took the time to slick his hair back out of his face as well. He felt pretty decent about himself as he took one last look and headed for the door.

Jack’s was basically right across the street. It wasn’t the nicest place, but that was sort of the appeal. The glow of the purple sign adorning the bar name leaked into his dark bedroom at night, reminding him it was there at all times.

As he approached the parking lot, he could already tell the guys were early. Two blacked out Cadillacs were parked side-by-side in the darkest corner of the lot, indicating their presence. And when Frank stepped inside, they were not to be missed.

The bouncer began to ask for his ID (flattering really, because he definitely was beginning to look his age), when the guys mobbed up at the front on them.

“Hey, hey this is our guy here,” Sal was shouting at the bouncer, already hammered, “Don’t even give him a hard time like that! He’s our boy.” The others were shouting and laughing behind him, herding Frank into the bustling bar and club. He never even needed to remove his wallet.

It was a Friday night, so half of Jersey was packed in the place, sweating liquor through their pores. Everything was hazy in the purple neon lights from cigarette smoke and humidity of so many bodies.  
As he was yanked up to the bar, three of his guys were playfully punching him and messing up the hair he had worked so hard on.

“Let me get uhhh, what do you want Frankie?” One of the guys shouted over the loud dance music.

“Rum and coke,” Frank said loudly over to the bar to the bartender.

The drink was in his hand in 30 seconds and no one paid for anything, so someone must’ve known somebody here. Maybe the owner was acquainted with Lorenzo. That would explain why he never got narced on.

They stood at the bar, ordering drink after drink and talking over the loud music. Just shooting the shit and giving each other a hard time. Frank was the youngest of them all, by about 10 years or more. Naturally, any time a hot girl passed through, they would shove him toward her.

“There’s a fine one Frankie! Go get em tiger.”

But he found himself laughing and shaking his head. None of them had quite piqued his interest yet, and he was getting to be quite drunk. He’d have to sober up a little before he tried anything with anyone.

Finally, about a half hour in, a petite little thing with long black hair and tan skin walked past and the guys already knew Frank would like that. She stood on 4-inch heels, teetering at the bar.

“Ok, you _gotta_ now man come on!” They urged him, and Frank finally agreed. He felt himself to be sober enough to have a conversation, so he ordered a drink and walked over to her at the bar. He had probably never done this in his life, so he hoped he the drink wouldn’t end up thrown in his face in response.

“Hey, I got you somethin,” Frank said, putting a hand on her shoulder softly.

She turned around, seeming angry at first, but when she saw Frank she seemed to light up. He put a vodka soda in her hand, smiling.

“What’s your name, baby?” He said in her ear, over the music.

“Vanessa!” She yelled back, grinning and taking a drink, “How are you, handsome?”

She was cheeky and funny. She bounced up and down excitedly as she talked, and Frank got a clear view of her breasts springing around in her low cut shirt. He made friendly small talk with her, and could almost hear the guys whistling from behind him.

“Wow, so you’re a musician? That’s _soooo_ cool!” She squealed at his made-up profession. She was into him, for sure. The way she was leaning into him and batting her eyes. And yet, he found himself zoning out as she talked. Not that she wasn’t interesting, but he just wasn’t into it. She even tried dancing with him, but he laughed and leaned against the bar instead. He could probably take her home and bang her right now, but his mind was on another planet.

To be honest, he felt like a piece of shit for glancing at another woman at the end of the bar over Vanessa’s shoulder.

She was faced away, talking to a friend. He couldn’t see her face, but she had shorter hair and pale skin that glowed in the neon-lit darkness. She was seated on a barstool, turned away from the rest of the crowd.

“Can you excuse me for just a minute?” Frank cut Vanessa off mid-story. Her face fell, but she nodded and turned back to the bar as Frank walked away.

He needed to get out of that for a minute and go to the bathroom. Or maybe stand outside and get some fresh air. Everything was feeling cramped all the sudden and he was getting claustrophobic. The guys tried to call him over, but he pretended he couldn’t hear, walking to the men’s room.

It smelled like piss, and the hot pink tiles on the wall were making his head spin, but he just had to get away from all the people for a minute. He washed his hands, splashing some water on his face and looking at himself in the mirror.

He looked like his dad. He was becoming just like his dad. No matter how many tattoos he got or piercings he put through his face. Frank Iero Senior was back from the dead and resurrected in his own body. He was becoming a drugged up, felonious bastard with nothing to live for, in the footsteps of his old man.

He needed a smoke.

Frank walked out, grabbing the carton he kept in his back pocket. One day he would quit, but it was one thing at a time and he hadn’t touched coke in over two weeks.

As he pushed his way through the crowd to the side door, he looked at the bar to see what was going on. Vanessa was already cuddled up to another guy. Not that he was surprised. She probably got the feeling he wasn’t interested anymore. Sal and Vincent were playing pool with some men he didn’t know. Probably the cartel connections at this place.

His eyes skimmed down before he got to the door, and holy fucking fuck.

Mystery woman had turned around, and she was not a woman at all.

It was fucking _Gerard_.

Gerard in skintight black jeans, knee-high boots and a loose black tank. His greasy black hair was styled messily, and his face glowed under the club lights. He clutched onto a beer bottle, looking at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

And from the looks of it, having an incredibly uncomfortable time with someone. He almost physically cringed at what he was witnessing.

Gerard’s lady friend was no longer there. Instead, one of his _own guys_ , Rick? Nick? He didn’t fucking know the guy’s name, was looming over him. He was looking at him like a piece of meat.

It occurred to him that maybe he had seen the picture of Gerard when he had shown them at the office. He recognized him somehow, and was now aggressively trying to get in his pants. Gerard’s eyes screamed _GetTheFuckAwayFromMe_ as he swiveled on the barstool, craning his neck and trying to get anyone’s attention.

Frank knew he shouldn’t get involved. He knew that work would travel back at work, and it would come back to bite him in the ass eventually. But he couldn’t help but feel that this was all his fault to begin with.

Frank made a sharp turn away from the door and headed right over to where Gerard was being harassed.

“You sure do turn heads,” The guy was practically yelling into Gerard’s ear, “And you know it too, you little slut.”

Frank grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around and getting in his face, skip the bullshit.

“Hey man, you need to get the fuck away from him,” Frank said, squaring up. The guy was bigger and taller than him, but he was older. Frank was quick and he always had his knife on him for emergencies. He knew he could win, if it came to that.

The guy wasn’t playing games either, because his ugly face was furious when Frank turned him around. He went from pissed to shocked to flaming mad as he recognized Frank as a fellow tradesman.

“Man, who the fuck do you think you are? Why don’t you mind your own business?” He pushed Frank’s shoulder, causing him to step back once.

Gerard had frozen, body folding in on itself against the bar. He could only imagine what was going through his head right now.

“He doesn’t want you here man, just fuckin leave him alone and there won’t be a problem,” Frank grinned, jutting out his jaw.

Now he just wanted to piss this guy off for fun. Not like he was enjoying this shithole anyway. He was right back up in the asshole’s face again, poking his finger at his chest, just daring the guy him to try him.

The guy shoved him backward, hard. Frank nearly tripped over his own feet.

That was all the invitation he needed, and Frank was on him like a fucking animal. He dug his nails into the guy, swinging on his face over and over and over and feeling his heart rip out of his chest. The other man was too slow, guarding his face and using his weight advantage to lean foreword and shake Frank off him unsuccessfully.

_“Hey! Hey what’s goin on, the fuck?”_

He could barely hear Sal and the guys dashing over to witness two of them trying to kill each other in the nightclub. The dance music pounded on, and onlookers began to yell and hiss.

The larger man finally landed a punch to Frank’s mouth, splitting his lip in the middle with a sprinkle of blood in the air. Frank growled, continuing to rip into him.

He felt himself being pryed off the guy with the force of three of the men he came there with. He was still swinging as they held him down, restraining him. The other guy was being ushered away by the bar staff before he could even get in another word.

“Hey calm down, Frankie, Frankie…” Sal had a grip around his shoulders, squeezing his arms to his sides.

As soon as the fight stopped, Gerard leaped off the barstool and ran out the back door. He didn’t so much as look at Frank before he made his exit. His head was down, not showing his expression.

Frank flung Sal off him and he escaped, following through the crowd of people out the same door after Gerard. He followed to the glowing red exit sign, slamming the door out and stepping into the frigid night air. His lip was throbbing, and he wiped the excess blood off his chin onto the back of his forearm.

When he turned down the alley, there was Gerard.

He was leaned up against the side of the building, sucking on a cigarette like his life depended on it. His lips were wrapped around it as it dangled out the side of his mouth.

“Hey…” Frank said, in a haze, “Are you-“

“What the _FUCK_ was that Frank?!” Gerard cut him off, not even looking at him. His voice was hoarse from yelling over the music all night, or maybe from being on the brink of tears.

“I… That guy, he was giving you a hard time, was he not?” Frank said slowly, but defensively nonetheless.

Gerard just sighed, with his head in his hand. The cigarette was burning dangerously close to his fingers.

“What the fuck do you care if some dude is harassing me in a bar, Frank, huh??” He laughed bitterly, throwing his smoke on the ground.

Frank just stood there, letting some silence pass between them, before getting pissed the fuck off.

“I did you a fuckin favor, and this is how you’re gonna thank me?” Frank shouted indignantly, “You’re gonna be a bitch?”

Gerard cackled at that, stomping on the still lit smoke and grinding it under his boot.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” He shook his head, finally looking over at Frank. His hazel eyes were heavily lined in black, making Frank’s mouth go dry at the sight.

“You think you can just save me, like you aren’t someone who robbed me at knifepoint and has been blackmailing me for almost a month now?!” Gerard was yelling, “Huh??”

Frank stood there, gaping. He’d never heard Gerard sound like this before. Not even when he was a dick to him before. He didn’t think he had it in him.

“But then you’re gonna swoop in here like my drug dealer in shining armor and make a fucking scene, embarrass me, and ruin my night??” His eyes widened at Frank, waiting for an answer but likely not wanting one. His voice was mockingly enthusiastic. He was clearly looking to hurt him.

“ _I_ ruined your night?” Frank stalked over to him angrily, filling the space between them. This was some fucking thank you, “That _guy_ was ruining your night. I was fucking saving it! I was trying to do something nice for you for once!”

Gerard crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall again and rolling his eyes.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite Frank. You act like this to hide. You blow up and act tough, but you’re just hiding how you really feel,” Gerard spat coldly. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Frank, who was only a few feet away from him.

Frank was shaking he was so angry. He ruined his own night for Gerard and he was fucking grilling him for it.

“I could’ve gotten laid tonight and you successfully scared everyone off with that shit,” Gerard added, sounding snotty on purpose.

“Maybe that guy was right then. Maybe you are a fuckin slut,” Frank said, taking a cheap shot out of pure hatred.

Gerard only smiled.

“I saw you with that girl. How are you gonna call me a slut when you probably would’ve fucked her?”

He can’t believe Gerard had seen that. His back was turned for what he thought was the entire time during that interaction. And he couldn’t understand why Gerard was being this defensive at all.

“I wasn’t gonna fuck her,” Frank found himself saying, despite his ego.

“Like hell,” Gerard shot back defensively.

“I was looking at someone else the whole time, _dumbass_ ,” Frank said, and shit if that was not supposed to leave his mouth. But in the heat of the moment, nothing felt more right to say than that.

“That’s nice, Frank. What other girl was on your cock tonight then, hm?” Gerard acridly, getting tired of the conversation. His eyes searched Frank’s face for a purpose to all of it.

“No one you stupid- ugh- fuck,” Frank said exasperatedly, “Jesus Gerard, I fuckin- don’t…”

He was out of words. He was out of actions.

Frank was kissing him.

He leaped, filling the remaining two feet of space that held them apart, pinning Gerard to the wall hard. His leg drove between the other man’s thighs as he licked into his mouth possessively, grabbing at his hair, at his hips, at his face…

“Fuck…” Gerard cried out. He didn’t fight it. He just stood there, letting Frank eat him alive in the alleyway like it wasn’t the trashiest thing in the world that they were making out there. But he eventually gave in, melting into his touch.

Gerard moaned, holding onto Frank’s sides as his shirt rode up around his waist. His delicate fingers ghosted up him, making Frank growl at the sensation.

“Fuck Frank…” Gerard said again, as Frank began sucking on his neck hard, aiming to leave a mark, “ _F-Frankie_ …”

Hearing Gerard whine his name out like that just squashed any shame he had left for his repressed sexuality. He was not going to live another moment pretending like he didn’t want to fuck Gerard the second he stepped into his apartment in January.

“You gonna behave for me now, then?” Frank whispered into his ear, yanking his hair, “You gonna be good?”

“Mhmm…” Gerard nodded, his eyes slipping shut in what appeared to be pure ecstasy. He should’ve known being an asshole to him got him off. Well lucky for him, he had plenty more of that in store.

“Well then,” Frank withdrew, looking at the other man splayed out in front of him, “Are you coming home with me, princess?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeehaw. Next part soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all my readers. I hope you enjoy this.

Frank was already stalking up the alley toward his place with Gerard following closely behind. The apartment was straight across the street and up only a block to his house.

Gerard couldn’t fucking believe how this night had ended up. That he had even ran into Frank in the first place. But he was so glad Lindsey talked him into going out that night, despite how much he wanted to stay in. She had left before the fight had even happened, and he was going to have one hell of a story for her in the morning.

He followed Frank up the stairs, and the tension was mounting. Not a single word was exchanged between them on the walk. Frank opened the door and stepped aside, letting Gerard go in first, and he flipped the light on in his apartment.

Gerard had no fucking idea what to expect, and his heart was racing. Frank was still a criminal, even if he was sinfully sexy. He could be hiding the fact that he was murderer. He could have an STD. He could be filming him to blackmail him further. Or he could be a regular terrible guy who would kick him out as soon as he was done fucking him.

As Gerard considered this, Frank slithered his way back over to Gerard, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him slow and hard. He felt himself whine, tensing up as all the possible outcomes flooded his brain. He was, in a way, hooking up with an almost stranger.

Gerard let him take the lead as he thought over all the things that he was about to let happen to him. He stiffened, resigning to him. But Frank quickly caught on.

“Hey… Hey…” Frank whispered to him, his forehead pressed to Gerard’s. He had stopped kissing him when he noticed the other man not reciprocating. He still kept his arms around his waist, swaying him back and forth comfortingly.

“What is it, Gee?” He said softly, “Am I moving too quickly?”

Gerard shook his head no, but he had so many fears. He’d had his heart broken so many times, and he was now putting it into the hands of a man who had already hurt him.

Frank tilted his chin up, forcing him to look in his eyes. And fuck, frank was really, really handsome. He had never taken a minute to seriously look at his face. His pretty lips were lacerated from the punch and swollen from their kissing. His hazel eyes were glowing as he waited for Gerard to speak. He only held him closely, waiting for a response.

“I…” Gerard started, and Frank nodded for him to continue, “I’m just scared Frank,” Gerard admitted, “Of everything. If I let myself enjoy this…”

Frank shushed him, pulling him back in for a long, tender kiss before beginning to lead him down the hall. Gerard followed silently, with Frank’s arms snaked around him as they stepped together toward his bedroom.  
He probably could’ve told Gerard anything and he still would’ve succumbed, despite his better judgement. But when they reached the bed, Frank nudged him, letting him fall backwards gently onto the black silken sheets. However, he didn’t climb on top of him. He didn’t even take the space next to him.

Frank remained standing, walking over to his desk in search of something. When he returned, he had a laptop. He opened it up, before facing it toward Gerard so he could see.

He had opened two photos. THE photos. He leaned over the screen of the foreword facing computer, and made sure Gerard watched.

He dragged and dropped each picture, one after the other, into the trash bin of his desk top.

And deleted them.

He shut the computer, leaning back to his desk to put it down, before taking a seat next to Gerard on the edge of the bed. Frank turned to the side, looking at him.

“They’re gone,” He said firmly, taking Gerard’s hand as he spoke, “I know hearing sorry won’t help. And I don’t know why you _should_ trust me, but I just think you need to hear that I’m… you, –fuck- you don’t have to be scared of me, ok?”

Frank looked at him, squeezing his hand softly as he spoke.

“I’m still so sorry Gerard. I want you to know that I never would’ve sent those pictures to your family in the first place,” Frank gazed at him, extended out on his bed behind him, “I was weak. I used it as protection because I couldn’t stand by my actions. But I want you to know… That if you want me the same way I want you, I will not be that man anymore,” Frank said, sounding somber.

Gerard took a moment to let his words sink in and to feel to relief of those pictures being gone, before speaking up.

“Promise me you’re not going to hurt me anymore than you already have,” Gerard whispered, letting his grip on Frank’s hand go limp. He looked straight out at his reflection in the mirror opposite the bed, afraid to meet the other man’s gaze.

Frank sighed at Gerard’s words. There was a moment of hesitation, before he kicked off his boots and turned, laying on his side next to Gerard finally. He enveloped his waist in his heavily tattooed arms, pulling him to his chest as he hummed.

“I promise you, Gerard,” Frank said pulling their hips flush against each other, “It’s behind me. And if you give me a second chance, I’ll take care of you like you deserve to be taken care of, angel.”

Their breathing was beginning to synch up, and Gerard felt himself grinding against Frank, melting in his embrace. Hearing those words was so wild after everything they had been through, and he couldn’t help but realize he had wanted to hear him say these things all along. He hoped he would never wake up from this daydream.

“Unless, of course, you want me to…” Frank whispered, kissing his forehead.

“To…?” Gerard said softly, nuzzling him.

“To hurt you, baby,” Frank said lowly, letting his nails scrape softly on Gerard’s back where his shirt had rode up.

And damn, that sounded delicious coming out of his dirty, hot mouth.

“Mmm,” Gerard whined, hitching his knee around Frank’s waist to pull him in closer. He felt his hardening cock in his jeans, pressing against his own. _Jesus Christ, what did Frank’s cock look like?_

“You still want me?” Frank said softly, his grip on Gerard’s hips allowed him to grind him against himself. Their lips were brushing together softly as he whispered to him.

“Yeah… yeah…” Gerard said, letting his eyes flutter at the sensation of him taking control, “Want you so bad, Frankie.”

That seemed to be the push Frank needed, because he rolled on top of him, straddling his waist. He was now under him completely, and giving him physical control felt amazing. Frank had been in control of him all along.

Frank was back to kissing and sucking on the crook of his neck like he had before, whispering sweet nothings in his ear between kisses.

“Fuck baby… Look so sexy… So sexy, Gee, baby… Lemme have you…”

Gerard moaned softly, grinding up on him and shivering at his words.

“Frankie…” Gerard cried out, feeling like he could cum untouched from the feeling of him breathing down his neck, alone.

Frank slid a hand around his throat, squeezing softly.

“No more Frankie. You call me Sir,” Frank commanded, kissing him. He sucked on his tongue, leaving him breathless.

Gerard moaned, not even remotely surprised, but it still felt so good hearing it confirmed. He figured Frank would be into that kind of stuff.

“Can I call you daddy too, sir?” Gerard said softly into Frank’s ear. He knew what he was doing.

Frank growled, firming the grip on his through enough to make him see stars.

“Shit baby, I knew you were a little freak,” He hissed, “Knew you wanted to be my baby girl.”  
Gerard nodded, whimpering and moaning. Frank ate it up.

“C-can I…”

Frank released the grip on his throat, allowing him to speak.

“Can I show you?” Gerard breathed, “How much I wanted you, sir. I want to show you so bad. Let me...”

Frank relinquished his pressure, releasing Gerard from under him. He laid back on his side of the bed, spread out with a heaving chest, hard clothed cock and messy hair.

“Give me a show, doll,” Frank said slowly, nodding. And that was exactly what Gerard had planned to do. He watched Gerard slink to the edge of the bed slowly, looking lustily at him from under his long fringe.

Gerard slid off, standing, facing toward him shyly. He had dreamed about this moment before, probably a dozen times since he had met Frank. Maybe even after he had robbed him, as well. He imagined being so irresistibly sexy that Frank couldn’t keep his hands off him.

And slowly, he began swaying to the music in his head. Nothing in particular at first, but eventually he was defaulting to the beat of Rude Boy by Rihanna. Fitting for Frank, really. He was nothing but trouble, but he turned Gerard on like no one ever had before.

Gerard ran his hands all over his body feeling himself and pulling his own hair, feeling Frank’s eyes on him as he did. He started at his shirt, sliding it over his head and tossing it to the floor, biting his lip and never letting his eyes move from Frank’s. He was left in his tight black jeans, swaying on display for the other man.

He then turned around, bending over to unlace his boots and giving him a full view of his ass, playing up his movements. Gerard knew how the jeans looked on him. They were so tight they could’ve been painted on his body. He arched his back, still moving his hips.

“ _Goddamn_ , sweetheart,” Frank rasped from the other side of the bed. He began to palm his growing erection from outside his pants, “Your tight little ass is just… _fuck_.”

Gerard didn’t respond. He only came back up from removing his boots, still facing away, and unzipped the pants.

“I think you’ll like it better without these, actually,” Gerard said coyly, letting them drop to the floor. Luckily he had worn something special in case he had gotten laid. Although he had to admit, this was not who he had expected in the slightest.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Frank snarled.

Gerard had selected some black panties that night. They were cotton, with cheeky lace sides and a small bow applique on the front. He turned around to face him again, giving Frank the view of his hard cock peeking out of the panties.

“You like it?” Gerard teased, winking. He began crawling into the bed over him before he could answer. Frank was laid out, feeling himself and looking like he could eat Gerard alive. His half-lidded eyes were ablaze as Gerard settled on his lap. He looked so fucking dirty with his hand on his cock.

“Fuck…You always wear panties like that, baby?” Frank asked, taking a grip on his hips and moving him around to inspect.

Gerard giggled, leaning forward and stealing a kiss.

“Not every day. Sometimes I don’t wear anything at all,” He smiled, dragging his fingers down Frank’s clothed chest.

Frank hummed, pleased upon hearing this.

“So you are a little slut then, hm?” Frank said hotly into his ear. Gerard was straddled around his lap, shivering at his touch. Frank now had a tight grip on his ass, grinding him onto himself, “Show daddy then. Show me how much of a slut you are, Gee.”

“Does that mean I can suck you?” Gerard asked, quietly beginning to slide down his body. He looked up with pleading, kohl-lined eyes, fluttering his lashes.

“I’m telling you, not asking,” Frank said coolly. His large hands guided Gerard the rest of the way down, till he rested with his face at his growing bulge. Frank took a moment to stroke Gerard’s cheek with this thumb, causing him to lean into the touch.

Gerard smiled innocently as he carefully reached for his zipper. He was extra careful as he unzipped, pulling it away from Frank’s hardness. When he unbuttoned the top and pulled his pants down his hips slightly, his cock sprung out, hard and glistening with pre-cum.

And god, if it wasn’t exactly what he had imagined on Frank. Such a strong and dangerous man and the perfect cock to match. Long, tan and thick. The opposite of Gerard’s smaller, pink cock. They seemed to be physically opposite in every respect. It made his mouth water.

“Fuck daddy, your fucking cock…” Gerard sighed, leaning over and letting it ghost across his lips, “So big, daddy.”

“That’s right, doll,” He said, giving himself a hard stroke and dragging the leaking tip across Gerard’s mouth, “Open up for me…”

Gerard shivered, opening his mouth and descending all the way down on Frank in one practiced movement. He really wanted to show Frank what he had been missing all this time, so he went deep.

“Mmm, that’s it baby,” Frank breathed, keeping his long fingers clamped around Gerard’s jaw and guiding him down, “Suck. Get it nice and wet.”

Gerard moaned, letting him feel the vibration in his throat. His own cock throbbed between his legs. It was a wet dream come to life.

He sucked and lapped at the man, letting him fuck his mouth and pull his hair as he did so. It went on for a few minutes, and Gerard was so painfully turned on by the end of it that he could barely support his own weight.

“Up, doll,” Frank commanded when he had enough, lifting him off his cock with his index finger and thumb around his chin, “Lay on your stomach for me.”

Frank sat up on his knees, cock in hand, letting Gerard take his spot on the bed. It was warm from where his form once laid. He faced away, laying down, feeling his heart race because he could no longer see what Frank’s actions were.

“Frankie, _Sir_ …” Gerard said softly, “What are you doing?”

He could hear Frank moving, likely taking his clothes off. He heard fabric hitting the floor and the clank of his belt. All he wanted to do was turn around and see his body, but he would have to wait.

“Stay there, doll,” Frank said, as he crouched above him.

Gerard let out a shaky breath, feeling his rough hands on his ass. He squeezed and spread him, before guiding his hips up and pulling the panties down his legs and off his body.

“Mmm…” Frank hummed, digging his thumbs into Gerard’s lower back and rubbing circles, “Such a good girl for me, Gee.”

Frank kept feminizing him, and it occurred to him that Frank was likely straight, just like he had assumed in the first place. Maybe he had never even been with a man at all. Gerard often attracted straight men because of his body. It was different coming from him, but he didn’t mind. He loved the idea of being Frank’s little bitch. But he had to wonder, would Frank regret this? He shoved the thought to the back of his mind, not wanting to think on it further.

Gerard swallowed. He could see Frank from the corner of his eye, just barely. His body fluttered in anticipation.

“Gonna stretch you,” Frank said, and he heard lube clicking open behind him, “Get you nice and opened up for me…”

Frank spread him open again, looking at his pink little hole, teasing it by dragging his thumb over it harshly. Gerard cried out.

“Please… Please…” He begged, arching his back.

And Frank finally slid a long digit all the way into him, up to the knuckle.

Gerard moaned, finally feeling the smallest relief, “Ah… Fuck, there.”

Frank drove it in and out of him slowly, gliding from the lubricant. He quickly added another, crooking up and finding his prostate. He rubbed firmly in response to Gerard’s wanton cries.

“Mm there? Is that your little spot, honey?” Frank teased, withdrawing and adding a third finger. Gerard stretched to accommodate, feeling it burn a little.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Gerard panted, attempting to fuck himself on Frank’s fingers, “Please… fuck me…” The man only laughed softly, holding him down with his free hand.

“You’ll take what I give you,” He said firmly, “Just another minute of this, you’re not ready yet.”

Gerard spread his legs slowly, allowing him deeper penetration with his fingers. He cried out over and over again, and Frank praised him for taking it.

“You’re doing so good, Gee,” Frank said lowly, “So damn tight…”

His fingers scissored and stretched him for only a moment longer, before he slid out entirely from Gerard. He whined, feeling empty.

“Turn around, baby,” Frank said. Gerard obeyed, flipping around on the bed slowly, facing him, “Wanna see your face when I fuck you.”

He was naked, except for a pair of black boxers. His muscular chest was completely inked, like his arms. As were his legs, with colorful designs snaking around his entire figure, masking his tan skin. Gerard nearly cried at how beautiful he was, with his dark hair falling around his face and his piercings glinting in the dim light.

He loved how opposite they were. Frank was olive-toned, littered with tattoos, strong and angular. Gerard himself was fair, more like translucent, with not so much a freckle on his body, and had more hips than half the women in his life.

“Fuck, Frankie…” Gerard sighed, looking him up and down, “God, you’re so sexy.”

Frank smiled, carding his fingers through his messy hair.

“You should see yourself…” Frank moved toward him, until he was straddling his hips again.

“Spread your legs baby,” He said, placing a hand on his bent knee.

Gerard obeyed, looking down shyly as Frank took in his spread out, naked form. He should probably be nervous or self-conscious, but he felt safe in Frank’s care.

“Good boy,” Frank said, kissing his lips and lingering.

He reached for a condom out of the bedside table and took his hard cock out of his boxers, rolling it onto himself.

Gerard dove up, catching him in a dirty kiss when he turned back to him. Frank smiled into it, before withdrawing to look down at his spread out figure. He got the notion that Frank couldn’t believe they ended up here, just as much as he was feeling right now.

“Ready?” Frank asked, reaching to take one of Gerard’s hands in his own, “I want you to watch.”

Gerard nodded, squeezing Frank’s hand. He spread his legs further, watching Frank line himself up. He paused, teasing him with the head of his cock and watching Gerard squirm.

Then slid all the way in with one fluid motion.

Frank kept kissing him, distracting him from the pain and letting him adjust around his sizable length for a moment.

“Doing so good, sweetheart...” He praised. Frank dragged another pillow behind Gerard’s back, easing the pain slightly at the change in angle.

“Ahh,” Gerard felt himself stop breathing, it was so fucking good even if it hurt, “Fuck, Frank… Please… Fuck me…”

Frank began to thrust slowly. And his cock felt better than it looked, because Gerard was crying nearly the moment it started.

“Ahh…Yeah…”

“Ohh baby, you like daddy’s cock?” Frank growled, speeding up. He leaned down, biting on Gerard’s neck as he fucked him, “That feel good, princess?”

Gerard let the feeling overtake him. He was so fucking big, stretching him. Frank’s bare chest was pressed against his own, and his heart raced. Frank had kept his fingers laced in Gerard’s, squeezing tightly. It was at this moment that Gerard realized just how many times he had fantasized about this, but only in fragments.

When Frank would open the door, he would imagine him pulling him in and kissing him in a two-second intrusive thought. When they would argue, he always wished it would end with him bent over the counter. But he had repressed it so far down that it wasn’t a fully formed thought of his.

You know what they say. Repulsion masks attraction.

Frank had sped up, full-on fucking him now, and Gerard was digging his toes into the bedsheets trying not to scream. Frank wrenched his head back by the hair, showing his abused neck.

“Mmm look at you,” Frank said roughly, “Fucking marked like a bitch. Say you’re mine, doll.”

Gerard felt what he was talking about. The dark bruised skin at the crook of his throat and collar that Frank had sucked and bit. It was getting sore already.

“Yours… Yours…” Gerard breathed, pulling him in for a long kiss. And when Gerard said the words, he felt like he wasn’t lying. His mouth tasted like liquor and cigarettes when they kissed, just like he thought it would. He tasted like a criminal too.

He felt his orgasm approaching already, and Frank could read it on him. He was whining uncontrollably, clawing at the other man’s back. Frank simply took his hands and pinned them above his head, forcing him down.

“Shh,” Frank soothed, “I know, just hold it for a bit longer.”

His tone was the exact opposite of his actions. Frank’s hips were snapping into Gerard, making him cry out and moan from the brutal pace.

“So goddamn pretty,” Frank growled, leaning down to suck Gerard’s lower lip into his mouth, biting, “Pretty little slut, _fuck_.”

“Frank… Sir… I can’t, I can’t…” Gerard cried out, canting his hips up to meet Frank’s thrusts. Every time was nailing his prostate so hard he was seeing stars.

“Don’t cum.” Frank commanded, fucking him even harder, “Hold it.”

Gerard tried his best, focusing on his breathing. But Frank’s lithe body slamming into him was just too much. He felt a hot tear fall down his cheek as he held his breath, trying so hard to obey the man’s orders.

“Hold it.”

“Daddyyyy….”

“Hold it, Gerard,” Frank snapped.

He was arching up off the bed, despite his hands still being pinned down. He felt himself completely going under, off into a dark corner of his mind that only was visited in fantasy. Total submission. He tried to breathe, letting Frank take his body.

“That’s it, stay with me. So good, babydoll,” Frank was moaning, sounding like he was as close as Gerard.

“Daddy…”

“Fuck…”

“Ohhh daddy…”

“Cum, baby.”

And Gerard was cumming, long, hard pulses across his abdomen, moaning loudly. His body shook, wracked with pleasure as he struggled to slow his breathing. It had been so long since a man had touched Gerard, let along made him cum so hard. He felt like his brain had left his body.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” Frank slumped forward, pushing Gerard’s legs back behind his knees. He fucked him so deep Gerard could feel it in his stomach.

Frank came all the way inside him, rolling his hips and panting, watching himself fill Gerard from the inside.

“Mmm…” Frank groaned, letting himself linger for a minute, before pulling out gingerly.

Gerard sighed, feeling exhausted, happy, sated. His head was swimming with questions for Frank, but for the moment, he just wanted to be held by him. Frank nestled him into his chest as soon as he rolled off his body, still breathing heavily.

He listened to the sound of the other man’s heartbeat, letting it soothe him. Frank absently ran his fingers up and down Gerard’s bare spine. The most beautiful feeling he had felt in years.

Suddenly, he felt tears pricking at his eyes. It was all over. The heat of the moment was gone. The pessimist in Gerard feared the worst, that Frank would never want to see him again after this. He might regret being with a man after all. No matter how much he wished he could be, Gerard was not a hookup person. He already felt the pain of rejection hitting him. He had written off all of Frank’s promises as lies. He already had lied to him so many times, what made this different?

A tear, not his first of the night, fell from his eye, hitting Frank’s bare chest as he began to sniffle.

And Frank must’ve felt it, because he pulled back, cupping Gerard’s cheek and inspecting him.

“Hey… Gee, what’s wrong?” He said softly, sounding concerned. He stroked his hair, looking at him as he shook, “You ok?”

Gerard took a shaky breath, wondering how dumb he would sound to a fucking drug dealer who spent the last half of his life alone.

“I just,” Gerard paused, letting himself calm down, “I just don’t want you to regret this.” He knew Frank had made him promises before, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had been promised something just to be fucked and thrown away.

Frank’s brow knitted together, confused. He moved his thumb to wipe another tear off Gerard’s cheek.

“Why would I regret this?”

“I mean maybe you don’t regret it, I hope, but maybe this was a one-time thing for you…” He felt throat swelling at the words.

“Gerard…” Frank said, turning onto his back. He gently tugged at the other man, pulling him up onto his chest. They lay flush against each other, with Gerard crumbling in Frank’s arms. He felt so fragile in that moment. He always felt fragile around Frank.

Gerard already knew he was being paranoid. But he needed to hear the words.

“I know how I was before, but I wouldn’t lie about this,” Frank said, rubbing his back.

Gerard nodded into his chest, unable to look up at him.

“You know… I’ve been in the process of getting clean,” Frank confessed, “I started right when I met you. I don’t know why I did it after all the years I’ve been using, but it felt like something was about to happen. I think that something was you.”

He only clung to Frank’s chest tighter, unable to respond. It was no secret Frank struggled with addiction. He was surrounded with it. But hearing that he was trying to quit, even for his own sake, left him speechless.

“I know I’ve still got a long way to go, and maybe my work is tough to be around, but I’d like to…” Frank hesitated, rubbing Gerard’s back, “To… keep you...”

Gerard felt his mouth go dry.

“I haven’t felt like a human since my parents died. Not with any girl, or with any drug,” Frank said slowly, thinking on each word, “Something changed in me in the last month. I almost… see myself in you. The way I used to be.”

He paused, letting the magnitude of his words sink in, before easing his head up to look at the other man.

For the first time, Frank looked totally, 100 percent exposed. His guard was down, and Gerard knew this was no small feat for him. He had spend his life hardening himself, putting up walls. He had just taken them all down in a single night.

It occurred to him that he and Frank were no different from each other. No one in his family knew the real him. Not even his brother, his own best friend. They both had refused to let anyone in. He never made this connection, until he looked in Frank’s eyes and knew exactly what he was feeling.

“Frank…” Gerard whispered, but nothing else came out. He chose to kiss him instead, tasting the salt of his own tears as he did. Frank sighed, releasing the same fear the Gerard had been holding on to as well.

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite the end, but we're getting there. I'll give you some more closure ;p


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's been on this wild ride with me. It's taken me months but this beast is finally complete. I love all of you so much.

-Three months later-

 

The bell chimed on the door as Gerard walked into Arkham Comics, just a couple blocks from the Cartoon Network office. His short Saturday morning shift was over, and he had more important things to do today.

It was spring now, and the warmth was back in the city today. Feeling the air-conditioned space enveloping him was relieving. Although he was nervous, something about coming to his favorite place put him at ease.

“Hey, good to see ya,” The owner said from behind the desk, recognizing his regular customer.

“Hey man,” Gerard nodded.

But he was fixated on something else. A figure in a flannel and ripped jeans, hunched over a box of DC vintage issues.

He crossed through the rows of boxes, stepping softly. And although the wood panel floors creaked under his shoes, he never disturbed him.

The flip flip flip sound of books between his inked fingers warmed Gerard’s heart. 

“Hey handsome. Come here often?”

He enveloped his waist in his arms from behind, and he felt the other man jump for a second before settling back into his weight.

He turned around slightly to meet his gaze, giving him a toothy grin. His dark hair was cut short now, and his five o’clock shadow was coming in already.

“Hey, didn’t hear you come in. How was work?” Frank said, his voice soft as he studied Gerard’s face.

“Fine. Quick. Just feeling a little jittery,” Gerard replied, eyes moving to the unexplored box on the floor.

He knelt down, beginning his search before Frank could reply.

“Don’t be,” He felt a hand on his shoulder, stroking him softly, “Today’s just like any other day.”

Gerard smiled, knowing he was right. They spent the next half-hour digging and picking out items for their collection. Every time they would come across a rarity they would examine it together.

Seeing Frank smile and laugh was all he could ask for. Spending a Saturday afternoon together used to be rare, but they were coming more and more frequently with every life change. Frank had finally broken free from the cycle, getting a promotion at work from a runner to a consultant. He dealt less with substance and first-hand crime, and more with business owners and affiliates. His lifestyle changes fell quickly into place, being away from the street and in the positive influence of Gerard.

Gerard was fitting in better with his work and seeing himself improve. Though his job was the same, he was already making connections. Frank’s office was in the city like Gerard’s, so they left together in the mornings. 

He was staying almost every night at Frank’s place and still cooking, though there was no obligation. Frank always was there with groceries and some extra cash that Gerard refused to accept (but often found snuck into his wallet the next day). 

Not everything started perfect. The first month consisted of Gerard helping Frank through the night during painful withdrawals. But seeing Frank looking as fresh and happy as he did two months later reminded him of how far they had come. He wouldn’t have traded all the sleepless nights for anything.

The side of Frank that Gerard had fallen in love with was so much more visible now. 

“Got what you want? We should probably go soon,” Frank glanced at his watch, clutching onto a few comics of his own.

“Yeah I’m good,” He said, following him to the register.

They laid their items down on the glass case full of collectables, letting the owner ring them up.

Gerard had chosen a second-reissue of Preacher for himself and couldn’t wait to show his brother.

“$32.80,” The owner said their total, bagging up the books.

Before Gerard could reach for his wallet, Frank was paying.

“But-“

“No buts. I got it,” Frank said with a wink.

 

A short subway ride back to Jersey took them to the last destination. A few blocks way from the coffee shop near their respective apartments.

They walked down the street, passing little shops and feeling the sun on their faces.

Frank took his hand as they entered the shop together, stepping up over the threshold and quickly spotting an open table.

“Want anything to drink?” Frank asked, letting Gerard take a seat.

“Nah. Can’t stomach it right now,” He muttered, chewing on his lip.

Frank didn’t reply. He only rubbed his back soothingly before crossing over to the bar to retrieve a coffee.

It felt like hours had passed as Frank sipped his drink, squeezing Gerard’s thigh and whispering sweet reassurances. 

Today was a day that he had never thought would come. But any minute it was all about to be out in the open. Without Frank, today might have never happened at all. He may never have had the courage to do what he was about to do.

But when the door swung open and in stepped Mikey, he felt calm.

“S’okay baby, I’m here,” Frank whispered to him.

Gerard rose to his feet, giving Mikey a quick hug and pulling out his chair for him. Frank pulled him in for quick handshake and a nod, still keeping a soothing hand on the small of Gerard’s back.

“Mikey, nice to meet you,” Mikey introduced himself.

“Frank. You too, man,” Frank nodded, before averting his gaze, letting the presence of Gerard overtake him.

All three took a seat, and the air hung heavy around them. The smell of caffeinated beverages and the whine of an espresso maker rung around them.

“So…” Mikey feigned a smile, looking at both and shrugging.

Gerard had only requested he met him at 1 o’clock at their usual hangout. He hadn’t told him anything else, so the surprise when he was with someone else was readable on his face.

“So…” Gerard countered, “Mikey I… I didn’t invite you here for a usual chat. I’m sure you know.”

He paused, looking at his hands. Frank’s hand rubbed at his back encouragingly. 

“Okay,” Mikey prompted. His expression was unreadable now.

“I… I just had something to tell you I guess…” Gerard stopped, took a moment to relax, and catch his breath. Frank’s hand had stopped moving, and he could feel the other man’s nerves transporting through him into his body through his fingertips.

“Mikey… this is Frank,” Gerard looked intensely from his brother to Frank and back, as if they hadn’t introduced each other moments ago.

Mikey nodded slowly, puzzled by what he meant.

“Dude I… Frank… Frank is…” Gerard began, pausing again. He hadn’t planned it. He just wanted it to happen organically.

“He’s strong and smart and funny. He’s been through hell and back and still works on himself every day…”

He looked at Frank next to him, his eyes glassy. Frank was frozen, hanging onto every word that left his mouth. Speaking the truth about him was all that mattered now. The rest would follow.

“He takes care of me, and I take care of him,” Gerard said quietly, “And he has wicked taste in comics.”

Frank’s eyes softened, but he didn’t say a word.

“Mikey…” He turned back to his brother.

Mikey nodded, waiting for him. He might be ahead of him, but he had to say it. He came here to let those words leave his mouth.

“Mikey, Frank is my boyfriend.”

Mikey hadn’t changed expression. He just stared emptily at Gerard as the gears turned. A lot was just dropped on him, and he needed a moment to process clearly. Almost 23 years of secrecy had finally cracked open on the table and spilled over them all.

A moment of silence transpired, and Gerard gripped Frank’s hand in his fingers tightly, squeezing for dear life. His presence kept him grounded as he reeled.

“How long?” Mikey finally asked.

Gerard blanched.

“I- About… Almost four months…” He said, feeling the blood drain from his face.

Frank nodded, looking over at Gerard.

“And you didn’t tell me…” Mikey stated.

“I was afraid,” Gerard said quickly, “I was always afraid.”

Mikey’s brow furrowed under his glasses, and he leaned forward, placing an elbow on the table and turning his head to the side.

“Gee,” He said, tone softing, “I… I knew. I know. Not about Frank but…”

Gerard nearly blacked out. Mikey was so obtuse sometimes. He truly didn’t think he had any idea until now. But he always had in intuition for Gerard. Maybe he had never let it slip even still.

“So then…” Gerard pressed, looking in his brother’s eyes before looking at Frank fleetingly.

“I’m sorry Gee,” Mikey cut him off, rubbing his eyes and looking down.

Gerard only waited, not knowing what to say.

“I’m so sorry that we never talked about this,” Mikey spit out, “And that… you thought I would hate you for it. It’s fucked up I never said anything, but I didn’t know how.” It sounded like he was struggling to get his words out firmly. He reached across the table taking Gerard’s free hand.

“You know I love you man,” He said, “Seriously, nothing’s gonna change that.”

And Gerard just couldn’t take not hugging him anymore. So he stood up and hugged him, feeling for the first time like he had a weight off his shoulders. His brother, his best friend finally knew the real him for the first time.

Frank stayed seated, letting them have their moment, before Mikey turned to him pulling him into an embrace.

 

That night, Frank and Gerard laid in bed reflecting on the day.

They had spent nearly two hours talking with Mikey after their confession, just letting him get to know Frank. When the topic of their meeting came up, the two of them gave a muted version of what had truly happened.

“When he asked how we met I basically shit myself,” Frank said, looking over at Gerard.  
Gerard giggled, kicking his leg with his own foot under the black silk sheets.

“We handled it, I think,” Gerard sighed, cuddling up to him.

They had told Mikey they met at the bodega in the city, which really wasn’t a lie. The day couldn’t have gone better for him. Any expectation he had for their meeting was exceeded. But he still couldn’t help but wonder how it all was effecting Frank. They hadn’t discussed his processing of the relationship since it had started.

“Frankie?” Gerard gazed at him, flitting his fingers along his sides.

“Mm?” 

“How do you feel about all of this?” Gerard asked, trying not to dig too much.

“About?”

“About… being with me. And telling people and, well, just processing it I guess,” He prompted.

Frank seemed to consider it, stroking Gerard’s hair and breathing slowly. Perhaps he hadn’t even considered it himself.

“Well, I’m so happy I’m with you,” Frank started.

“I know that,” Gerard smiled, waiting for a real answer. Frank laughed before considering.

“It’s different for me, since they’re not here. I wonder sometimes what they’d think,” He said absently, feeling Gerard pressed against his chest.

“Your mom and dad?”

“Yeah.”

“They’d be proud, Frankie.”

Frank paused.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re doing good for yourself. Even if they weren’t thrilled their son was dating a fairy like me, they can at least appreciate you taking care of yourself and being honest.”

“Don’t say that,” Frank said, clearly hung up on Gerard’s self-deprecating remark, “You’re definitely my best achievement.”

Gerard sighed, pulling him closer. It was so strange to think back on where they started out and how far they had come, but he knew that his own words were true. Frank had grown into a good man. The best man.

“Don’t say things like that Frankie, you know it makes me horny,” Gerard said sarcastically.

“I know that,” He parroted Gerard’s earlier snark.

Frank leaned down, capturing him in a kiss before he could follow up with any response. Gerard hummed, rolling on his side to hook his leg around Frank’s.

They kissed heatedly, like a weight had been removed from them both now that they weren’t hiding anything. Gerard grinded into him, but quickly was pushed back as Frank climbed on top of him.

“Can I?” Frank whispered, kissing down Gerard’s neck.

“Please…” Gerard breathed, lolling his head to the side to let him continue.

He continued kissing down his collar bone, licking at his throat and sucking red marks into the skin. Gerard whined, enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend’s complete attention on him.

“You’ve been so good, baby,” Frank whispered, “I think you deserve a reward.”

Gerard nodded eagerly, letting his eyes slip shut. Franks hands were wandering all over him, hot and heavy, groping every part of him as they slipped further into their roles. He reached between his legs, palming at Gerard’s growing hardness.

“Fuck…”

Frank smiled, nudging his legs further apart with his own. He knew he had reduced Gerard to a pliable body beneath him already.

“Do you think you’ve been good, doll?” Frank asked, stroking Gerard’s most sensitive spots through the fabric of his pajama pants.

Gerard’s breathing was labored as he struggled to not cry out loudly.

“Yeah… Yeah Frankie I’ve been good,” He forced out.

A soft, backhanded slap landed across his face. It barely hurt, being done mostly for shock.

“Sorry, Sir. I’ve been good,” Gerard corrected himself, sighing at how gentle he was being. Frank knew today was hard on him, and he was being extra receptive of Gerard’s feelings.  
Frank hummed at his answer, and began working off his pajamas. He peeled off Gerard’s shirt, revealing his pale, love bitten chest. Then moved to his pants and cotton panties.

“Pretty…” Frank sighed, kneeling over his now naked form, spread out beneath him in wait.

“No, you are,” Gerard said back. Normally he would get punished for talking back no matter the intention, but Frank only smiled warmly, stroking Gerard’s cheek with the back of his hand fondly.

“Open up, baby,” Frank finally said.

Gerard spread his legs, letting Frank settle on his elbows between them as he reached for a bottle in the nightstand. He popped it open, spreading a generous amount of liquid on his fingers before coming back to Gerard’s welcoming body.

He teased, running a finger over his entrance but not sliding in. Just giving Gerard enough sensation to cause him to whimper and grind down.

“Ask nicely for me,” Frank commanded softly.

Gerard knew it wouldn’t take much, but he would do his usual best anyhow.

“Please daddy, let me feel you. I’ve been so good. I missed your strong hands. I missed your cock. Please, sir, I promise I’ll make you feel good,” Gerard spouted out, bracing on his hands at the feeling of the wet digit sliding against him.

Frank only looked up from under his lashes to get a look at Gerard’s face when he finally sunk in.

“Ahhh…” Gerard sighed, opening his legs wider and looking at him with want.

“Shh, that’s a good boy. My good boy,” Frank encouraged, stretching him. He moved in and out, tugging lightly at the rim and dragging up toward his prostate, “So sensitive, baby.” 

Gerard cried out, arching up as he slid another finger in. It had been quite a few days since they had last touched each other, and he was practically melting at the feeling of his beautiful boyfriend’s care.

Frank got up to three fingers, stretching him only about 80 percent of the way. They both relished in the sensation of Gerard not being fully prepped when they began. The slight pain for Gerard and the overwhelming tightness for Frank were too good.

Frank had already withdrew, leaning back to strip himself down and quickly coat his own cock in lubricant. He jerked it firmly in his hand, looking at the sight of Gerard splayed out on the bed. He then moved to position himself above him.

“P-please Fra- Sir,” Gerard begged, catching himself.

Frank smiled softly, feeling out Gerard’s hole to line himself up.

“Ready baby?” He asked. He brushed the blunt tip against him teasingly, almost sliding in but not quite.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Frank held the position, hovering and nearly breaching for nearly a minute. Gerard only fidgeted, keeping himself from sitting down on the length entirely before Frank was ready. Then Frank finally slid home.

“Fuck,” Gerard cried, instantly gripping onto Frank’s back, digging his nails into his skin.

Frank’s cock was splitting him in half, but it felt so good he could cry. He whined loudly, laying still as Frank began a painfully slow in-and-out rhythm.

“Mm, fuck… Baby… Daddy’s got you,” Frank grunted, pulling Gerard flush against his chest as he penetrated him.

Gerard could only moan, rolling his hips up to meet his motions. He soon began a quicker pace, forcing deeper and pushing in further. Gerard was pounded down, feeling Frank’s hand cup the back of his head to prevent it from hitting the headboard.

“Ah- ah- mmm, more,” Gerard pleaded, watching between their bodies at what was being done to him.

And Frank obliged. He sat up further, giving himself a better angle, before driving back into him deep and hard. His hips moved in a perfected motion, hitting Gerard’s spot every time. He knew his body better than he knew himself.

“There baby? That it?” He asked, leaning down to kiss Gerard’s damp forehead.

“Yeahyeahyeah…” He breathed, feeling his orgasm already sneaking up.

“Gee, baby,” Frank cooed, fucking into him roughly, “Feels good huh? Feels so good?”

“Ah!” Gerard couldn’t answer cohesively. He could only nod and moan, hoping Frank wouldn’t stop any time soon.

“Pretty boy,” Frank praised, sounding like he was close himself, “You take my cock so well. Keep going angel, you’re nearly there.”

And Frank was right. He was so damn close. Frank normally liked for him to cum untouched, but today he was feeling a little daring considering how sweet he had been.

“T-touch me?” He asked shyly, barely above a whisper.

Frank nodded once, understanding his desire. He reached down, taking his smaller cock in his hand and jerking in time with his strokes.

“F-fuck… Fuck, daddy, yeah fuck…” Gerard babbled, not knowing whether he liked the feeling of his cock being played with or his ass being filled better. Both at the same time was just fine with him.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum with my cock inside you, fuck,” Frank commanded, speeding up. He was pulling every move in the book to make Gerard finish.

And he did. He came so hard he was seeing stars, cumming all over his own chest and dripping down in Frank’s hand.

Frank stroked him, slowing down and pulling it out of him, before withdrawing his hand and bringing it to Gerard’s mouth.

“Taste yourself baby,” Frank nudged a finger between Gerard’s lips, and he sucked it in, lapping his tongue around it obediently.

At the sight of it, Frank couldn’t hold it any longer. He came inside of him, before quickly withdrawing and blowing the rest of his load on Gerard’s abdomen, marking him. He leaned back on his knees, chest heaving, and slowly stroking himself through his finish.

“Jesus, Frankie,” Gerard sighed, closing his eyes and replaying it all in his head once more.

Frank snorted, coming down to lay next to Gerard. He pulled him close, holding him to his body as they both came down from the high.

“I love you, doll. You were so brave today,” Frank said, squeezing his hip.

Gerard smiled, turning toward him for a lazy kiss.

“You made me brave,” Gerard replied.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by @gracelinalee's comment on my last fic, where she suggested something based around the idea of Frank in a ski mask like in the BFF video. I'm going to be actively updating this, and feedback is much appreciated!


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